She Doesn't Need Time
by Kurissyma san Tybalt
Summary: Everyone fights. You’ve just got to remind yourself why you love that person— remind yourself that, no matter what, you DO love that person.” Emily/JJ and Morgan/Garcia in fairly equal proportions, full summary inside.
1. The Reason You're Here

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 1**_

_December 22__nd__, 2009_

It had been 12 years since she'd seen him. He'd been 2 then, and not very well. If she was truthful with herself, it was a miracle he'd lived even so short a life as he had, but she wasn't ready to face such cruel truths just yet… not with a baby of her own only three and a half months from making its way out into the world. She could only hope that death would be kinder to that boy than life ever had been.

As Emily stretched hopelessly in her cramped, uncomfortable Economy Class airplane seat, a far cry from the BAU's cushy private jet, she couldn't help but wonder why her cousin had invited her. They had never been close enough that such an invitation should have been obligatory, and more than that, if it were Emily, she knew she could never bear to see a pregnant woman, let alone the sinner her cousin believed her to be, at her own child's funeral.

It was no secret, after all, what cousin Catherine's side of the more-than-affluent Prentiss family thought of Emily's relationship with her female colleague, Agent Jennifer Jareau, and yet Cat had _specifically_ invited both of them, and even paid their airfare to her idyllic Sydney home.

Catherine and her husband Edward had made the move to the sunny holiday paradise just before their son Joseph's third birthday, immediately after he'd been cleared for flying after a recent operation, and it had been in a last ditch attempt to connect with her cousin before they left that Emily had revealed her feelings, at the time feelings alone, for her co-worker. She'd been trying to open a channel of trust and communication, but found it blocked off by a high-strung, immovable prejudice that Emily wouldn't have thought possible of her own blood. They'd parted on bad terms, and though she was occasionally updated on Joseph's progress via email, Catherine never called her when in town to see her aunt, and Emily had thought herself well on the way to accepting that when the boy had died suddenly.

Needless to say, their purely political relationship (forced in family situations but uncertain on their own terms) was the cause of a particularly bad case of nerves as she flew over. Though, to a degree, flattered to be remembered, entirely willing to be there to see her poor nephew off, and anxious to be there for her cousin, Emily had to admit that there was no logic to it, certain that the inevitable family reunion would be nothing but grievously awkward not only for her, but for her partner as well.

All the same, JJ was clearly doing her best to appear calm and positive as they flew over, even to the extent of putting up with Garcia's constant whining to her left.

_Garcia's_ presence had been a last minute thing. Somewhat inappropriately excited at the prospect of a sunny holiday in a far off, as yet unseen, paradise, she had managed to get a seat beside them on the plane only days before the scheduled departure date. Neither of her travel companions bothered to question the legality of her methods. They had discovered long ago, after all, that in these situations it was usually better not to ask. In a similar fashion, Garcia had been able to rewire JJ and Emily's non-refundable tickets home to a different flight two weeks later. _She_, at least, had nothing to fear a couple of weeks in the sun…

"_Urgh!!_ I can't fucking _stand_ planes!" Garcia cried out suddenly, slamming an orange-heeled foot on the ground and only narrowly missing JJ's bare one as she yanked it out of the way, kicking Emily in the shin in the process.

"Ow! For goodness sake, I'm trying to sleep!" Emily yelped, kicking across the row of three and managing to kick both JJ and Garcia in one action. "I have a goddamn _funeral_ in the morning!"

Pulling her legs up onto the chair in order to avoid a repeat incident, JJ offered Emily an apologetic look. "Sorry, baby, we're _all_ frustrated," she admitted, shifting the armrest that separated them up and out of the way. "Here, lean on me…"

Emily did as directed, sighing resignedly. "Thanks, Jayj… It's just that I haven't slept all this time, and I can't stand that I'm going to have to face my family looking anything other than my best…"

"It's a funeral, not a wedding," JJ reminded her gently. "No one's going to look fantastic. And don't worry about it, we're all tired."

"You can say that again," Garcia whined, slipping off her 'beautiful' heels and giving the airplane socks hanging out of the seat pocket in front of her a dirty look as she retrieved them. "It's pure hell up here, but it'll be brilliant once we land." She checked the screen in front of her. "We've only got four and a half hours left!" she exclaimed excitedly, and it was incredibly tragic, Emily thought, that such an announcement could lighten their moods so.

"Thank _God_," she found herself sighing, snuggling into JJ's side appreciatively as the blonde's arm came around her. "I'm so ready to get off this plane!"

"I know. I really need to go to the bathroom!" Garcia cried, drawing incredulous looks from her companions.

"Wait, you mean you haven't been to the bathroom this _whole flight_?" JJ asked, eyes wide. "Why the hell _not_?"

"It's gross!" Garcia protested defensively, "Besides I can't stand the thought that if this plane crashes into the ocean, we're going to be floating around a tank full of people's shit! No way I'm contributing to that!"

JJ and Emily exchanged disgusted looks. There were no words with which either could immediately respond to that statement.

"If you say so…" JJ agreed eventually. "Have you watched any good movies on this flight? I'm sure struggling for entertainment."

Garcia shook her head dismally. "I searched every nook and cranny of the system," she sighed. "I even hacked into the business and first class sections, but there's _nothing_ good on!"

"That's Qantas Airlines for you," Emily sighed knowingly. "I really think the best thing that this country could do for its tourism would be to make the flights more bearable. I mean, it's a _gorgeous_ _paradise_, but who wants to spend however-many goddamn hours in this hell? Not exactly a selling point…"

"You can say that again," Garcia whined, shifting uncomfortably in her too-small seat and tugging up the blanket that was necessarily sitting awkwardly beneath her fastened seatbelt. Four times this flight when she had been just about to drift off a flight attendant had come by and woken her to check whether or not her seatbelt was fastened. It was. Every time. And now she was damned sick of it. "I can't wait to hit the beaches and just fall asleep on the sand…"

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Emily disagreed. "Reid happened to tell me some statistics about the occurrence of skin cancer in Australia and—"

"_Whoa_!" Both JJ and Garcia cried at the same time.

"Do _not _tell us," the latter commanded, with the expressed support of the former. "Don't you _dare._ You might be here for a serious occasion, Em, but let's not forget that _I_ am here on holiday, okay? I do not need Reid to ruin it with unsettling statistics when he's not even here!"

Emily grimaced. "You couldn't have given the same speech to Reid before he told me that Australia has one of the highest rates of skin cancer in the world? At least two in three Australians are diagnosed with it by the age of 70 and 1000 are treated for it every day—!"

"_Hey!"_ Garcia exclaimed, and JJ offered her a sympathetic grin.

"Emily, honey, that was mean," she chided her wife, mock-seriously.

"So mean," Garcia agreed, pouting like a petulant child.

Emily only shrugged her shoulders and stretched her arms out in front of her, causing JJ to flinch as she cracked her knuckles loudly. It was something she'd only started doing since she'd become pregnant, apparently to relieve stress, and while JJ wouldn't begrudge her the action, it was just a little… _eww_, for her tastes.

"I'm going to the bathroom— baby's orders," Emily announced suddenly, noticing for the first time the look of disgust on Garcia's face as she did so.

"Don't come back until you've bathed in disinfectant," she said, making a show of pegging her nose against a non-existent odor.

JJ laughed as Emily stumbled getting to her feet, legs numbed by hours confined in the cramped space. "Careful there, sweetie."

"Yeah… I'm going to ask for a drink on my way back, do you want anything?"

"Bubbly?" JJ suggested with a wistful sigh.

"I think it's water, coke, or apple juice on this flight," Emily pointed out, grimacing humorously.

"Decisions, decisions…"

"I'll get you a juice."

"Thanks, love."

Emily leaned (or maybe fell) down to give her wife a light kiss before limping off to the bathroom, earning a soft coo from Garcia.

"Jayj, girl, you and Em are the _bomb_," she said happily. "I've never seen anyone so in love… Well, except of course for my darling chocolate _God_... _Oh_, how I miss him…"

"I'm sure you can go two weeks without Morgan," JJ laughed, elbowing her friend cheekily. "He's gone to his mother's for Christmas anyway, hasn't he?"

"Wrong on both counts, sweetie," Garcia replied, waggling a finger at her travel companion. "Turns out my bags were seriously overweight at the airport, so Morgan volunteered to go back to my place and unpack anything unnecessary. He's catching a flight over six hours behind ours, so he's already in the air by now."

"Wait a minute, he's coming here?" JJ exclaimed, this being the first she'd heard of it.

"Jayj, it's _two weeks_! What was I going to do without him for _two weeks_??" Garcia protested. "He had to come! Anyway, it'd be suicide going out on those beaches without him! I'd be surrounded by gorgeous men just _dying_ for my phone number, and I'd have to break their heats and tell them that not only do I live thousands of miles from them, but that my own heart belongs to another! No one would dare approach me if I had Morgan on my arm, though. I'm saving _countless_ young Australian hotties from heartbreak, don't you see??"

JJ certainly did. She couldn't take Emily out to a normal hetero bar because each and every time she did people assumed that they were just friends, practically _waiting_ to be picked up, and after the 20th time in an evening it took a lot of self-control to simply, _calmly_ tell the guys that no, Emily was _not _her friend, _certainly_ not her sister, she was her _wife_. "Is he going to meet us at the hotel?" she asked, just as Emily returned with their juices.

"Who's going to meet us at the hotel?" she asked, easing back into her seat, spare hand on her belly.

"I'll give you a clue," Garcia hinted shamelessly. "He's tall, dark, handsome, and some would suggest… made out of _pure molten chocolate_."

"Morgan's coming?" Emily twigged, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"This is it, Em! He's going to ask me out before these two weeks are up, I'm sure of it!" Garcia exclaimed. "He _has_ to with what I've got in store for him!"

"Which is…?" Emily prompted, almost afraid to ask.

"Well, firstly…"

-

"I'm sorry, Morgan! It was so last minute that all they could give us was a double room— the last one, too. That's okay, right?" said Garcia, flashing him an innocent look as she popped the card key into the slip behind the door, causing the lights to flash on inside. They both knew that even if this had been the case, Garcia could easily have done some rearranging in the hotel system, but Morgan was most definitely one for picking his battles, and this one he left unfought.

"Course, baby girl. It's plenty of room," he agreed, brushing past her and heading for the bathroom, backpack slung over one shoulder. "I'm going to take a shower and get changed first. Do you want to take a nap before dinner or something?"

Garcia, who had made a point to spend the six hours between getting to the hotel and Morgan's arrival sleeping off her long trip, shook her head lightly and sat back on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg high over the over as she switched the television on. "Not right now," she said. "But if you want to sleep when you come out, I'll turn the TV off so you can get some rest."

"Thanks, baby girl," Morgan replied, slipping into the bathroom. Then just before he closed the door, he leaned out and called her name. "Hey, Garcia." She looked up attentively. "Got any shampoo?"

"_Ha ha,_ baldie," Garcia replied, flicking her long blonde hair to the side sexily. "Go wax your head."

Clutching his heart, Morgan staggered the rest of the way in and closed the door behind him. As it shut, Garcia glanced up again, focusing her eyes on the locked door, and willing it to fall open suddenly. It didn't of course, and she returned to her show of watching TV, all the while ensuring that she was positioned on the bed to her ultimate advantage. This was going to be one hell of a holiday…

-

Unlike Morgan, Emily and JJ didn't need to be tricked into sharing a room, or a bed, for that matter. They wouldn't have had it any other way. Having mutually agreed to go out for dinner around 8:15 at the first place the concierge happened to suggest, Emily and JJ had been sleeping for the past 7 hours and were beginning to wonder if they'd get to sleep again after dinner when a knock sounded on the door.

Emily glanced at JJ, then at the clock on the bedside table. It was 7:20.

When the knocking persisted, JJ put down her book and reluctantly untangled her legs from those of her spouse. Running her fingers through her hair as she opened the door, she wasn't surprised to see Morgan standing there.

"Derek, hey," she greeted him warmly, stepping backwards into the room. "It's good to see you down safely."

"Jayj wouldn't stop shaking for half an hour after this tiny, _tiny_ bout of turbulence," Emily informed him, as he turned a chair tucked in at the desk to sit across from her on the bed. "Don't let her try to deny it. She was _terrified_…"

"I'm not the one who suddenly burst out _'I love you!'_ like we were never going to see each other again," JJ protested, nudging Emily's leg with her foot as she sat down next to her, making it perfectly clear that unlike her, her spouse had done just that. She glanced at Morgan, grinning. "Can you believe we travel every other week for work? We were a wreck!"

"Is Pen asleep?" asked Emily, supposing that there could be no other reason for him to tear himself away from her. Their mutually unacknowledged love had grown to an utterly unreasonable point these days.

"I had to get away from her," Morgan admitted, and Emily and JJ exchanged confused looks. "It's nothing she's done," he amended quickly. "It's just she was watching TV and she fell asleep in the most… _tempting_ position. I just need to get her out of my sight for a while."

Confusion faded instantly from JJ and Emily's faces and was replaced with sympathy and understanding.

"Don't worry," JJ told him, grinning knowingly. "Remember that case a few years ago in Oregon, with the six black girls and the… _you know_? Emily got really worked up about that one so I told her to take a soothing bath, right? We're sharing a double room that time. Singles were unavailable or something… Anyway, three hours later I'm trying to read my book but I'm starting to worry that she's gone and committed suicide or something unthinkable like that, so I go in and there she is lying naked, asleep, in the bathtub: legs parted, arms resting on the side of the tub, breasts…" JJ coughed uncomfortably, shaking her head to clear the long-remembered image from it. "Whatever. I practically _ran_ to Reid's room and let him read to me from the Encyclopedia for the rest of the evening. Torture, but a lesser torture, it seemed at the time."

Morgan chuckled gratefully. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's like that. We're at a funny place in our relationship at the moment..."

"Yeah," Emily put in. "It's called _denial_."

"Hey!" Morgan protested, hands raised in a defensive gesture. "Do you see me denying anything? I'm completely aware of my feelings for her, but I'm also aware that we've got a good thing going right now and I don't want to lose that."

Once again, Emily and JJ exchanged knowing looks.

"What?" asked Morgan, when neither one replied.

"Nothing…" said JJ.

"…It's just that that sentiment sounds awfully familiar," Emily explained. "We went through it. I think _every _couple goes through it. The thing with romance is that sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. You've just got to trust that if it doesn't work out, you can go back to the way you were before. No hard feelings."

"The thing to do is never let her walk away mad," JJ advised from experience. "You may think you're giving her time to cool off, but chances are she's spending that time consoling herself that she was right to walk away, and you're not helping her by giving her time— not one bit! Other than that… Never fight on the phone. It's far too easy for someone to hang up—"

"May I ask where this is coming from?" asked Morgan, still grateful but also a little confused.

"The only time Em and I ever had a _real_, honest-to-goodness, I-hate-you-for-this, I-never-want-to-see-you-again sort of fight, she stormed off and got herself shot on that very case," JJ said, glancing at Emily regretfully. "It could have ended badly too easily that day. Everyone fights, you've just got to remind yourself why you love that person— remind yourself that, no matter what, you _do_ love that person."

Emily took her hand and rubbed it softly before slowly dragging her eyes from JJ back to Morgan. "Penelope is absolutely mad for you," she told him. "She reckons this holiday is her big chance to make you love her, and my guess is that she probably fell asleep in that position hoping that it would get to you. Now, feel free to hang around here, but you'd probably rather go back to your room and sleep before we have to go out again, wouldn't you? Your plane is barely on the ground compared to ours."

"You're right," Morgan agreed, grinning uncertainly as he stood. "I'll see you at quarter past eight."

As he left the room, Emily moved to ponder over the drawer she'd claimed for her clothes. She'd already set out a simple outfit for that night: black jeans and a white shirt, red cardigan… but now she started fiddling with the clothes she'd planned for the funeral the next day.

Emily _loathed_ dresses, absolutely _loathed_ them… but she knew that every female in her family would be dutifully wearing one to the funeral, and she knew that wearing a suit outside of work would earn her, quite likely, an even higher level of disapproval than bringing a female guest would (not to mention that it would make her, in her family's inexperienced view, the 'butch' lesbian of the pair, and she didn't think she could bear to face up to that stereotype). To that end, before leaving DC, she had bought a simple, black sleeveless maternity dress with a modest 'V' down the front, and though it made her more than uncomfortable to wear it, she had to admit that it looked decent on her. _Better_ than decent if JJ's reaction in the store was anything to go by. Of course, in her eyes, JJ herself looked a million times more gorgeous.

"You're not still nervous about wearing that silly dress are you?" JJ asked, raising an eyebrow at her over the book she had just picked up again. "You'll look gorgeous. …I'm far more worried about meeting your family, to be honest."

Emily grimaced at the thought. "The small, close wedding was really a very cleverly sentimental way for us to avoid that in the past, wasn't it?" she agreed. "Just remember that after tomorrow you'll have to face them at least one more time, so don't do anything too silly."

JJ quirked an eyebrow in confused amusement.

"When the baby's born," Emily explained, resting a hand on her stomach as she closed the drawer and turned around, returning to her seat on the bed. "They'll want to put in an official viewing, so that they can say to themselves and to their friends that they have at least _seen_ the child. After that you needn't worry— you won't see the majority of them again after that until I'm dead. They'll put in a necessary appearance at the funeral too, and I'm sorry about that. I know it's probably not a time you'll want to see them or anything..."

JJ laughed quietly, not entirely sure that her wife was even joking. "Do you think they'll be okay with us?" she asked, admittedly quite nervous about the lunch that would inevitably follow the funeral. "And with me being there even though I didn't know the boy?"

Emily smiled grimly and reached into her pocket for her wallet, taking out a picture of the boy as she'd last seen him, 2 years old. "Here's his baby picture," she said, passing it to her wife. A few seconds later she took it back. "There you go," she said. "Now you know him just as well as everyone else in my family, save his parents— better even. Most of them have only just once _glimpsed_ him as a newborn. They won't have seen anything more recent."

JJ felt awkward. "How many people will be there?" she asked.

"Oh, maybe a hundred Prentisses," Emily replied lightly. "Don't worry. They're all politicians; they won't say anything to you that's out of line. They might hint at it, especially those who make a show of being religious, but there'll be nothing more sinister."

Without being told, JJ knew that the last statement was a grimly humorous reference to her own cousin, Jane, who had punched her in the face when she'd heard the news, and begun ranted passages of not-quite-relevant bible verses. She smiled grimly. "That's good…"

"I'm going to brush my hair and cover the bags under my eyes before we have to go out," said Emily, clutching at her wife's shoulder briefly before walking over to the bathroom door. "Try not to worry _too_ much, Jayj. It's just one day. And I won't let anyone talk down to you, I promise."

"Let me brush your hair?" JJ suggested, smiling bravely as she stood and wrapped her arms around her wife's swollen belly from behind.

Emily smiled at the gesture, placing her hands softly over JJ's. "Sure," she agreed. "…Love you, Jen."

"I love you too, Emily."

"Don't let my family scare you off tomorrow."

"I won't."

Emily turned her head up slightly to kiss JJ softly and felt her smile against her lips.

"…After all. They're the reason _you're_ here."


	2. When God Closes A Door

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 2**_

_December 23__rd__ 2009_

Getting up in the morning had become more difficult since Joseph's death. Or, if not inherently more difficult, then… less necessary, or so it seemed to Cat. Out of nowhere she had all these doubts. Had she been a good mother these past fourteen years? She'd tried to be. That was all she'd done. So why hadn't Joe been able to cling on to life? Hadn't she given him reason to?

Cat had given up her job, her friends, terminated contact almost every member of her own family, she no longer took walks in the park, went to the theatre with her husband, or painted in the garden… all so she could devote everything to her dying son. She could see that now. Even when he'd been alive, he'd never been '_living'_. He'd always been '_dying'_.

It was so hard to be positive about a situation you'd convinced yourself years ago there was nothing positive about. When her son had been sick she'd wasted no time in forgoing all the simple pleasures she had once found joy in, and now that he was gone and they were all she had left, she had no idea if that joy was still in them somewhere, lying dormant, or if her son had taken everything of the sort with him when he'd gone. He'd been her life. Now she almost felt as though she had none left.

Her husband, Edward, had tried to comfort her. She supposed it was easy for him: he still had a job to lose himself in, friends to unload on, hobbies to further… She never thought that it might be just as hard for him to look her in the eye as it was for her. It never occurred to her how hard he was trying to make things right.

No, despite herself, her thoughts lay solely with her cousin. Her beautiful, talented, honest cousin, true to herself and her beliefs… Emily Prentiss was someone that Cat had always admired, and yet out of jealousy, she'd forced herself to push her away. She'd desperately _wanted_ to be close to the object of her admiration, to learn from her enviable calm, her pragmatism, her firm beliefs, but no matter how she tried, all she could think about was the nameless baby her cousin had denied a soul, aged 15 in Rome. All she could think was that while _she_ was fighting to give her son life, Emily had casually thrown it away.

Until she was taking her own son off the life-support, she hadn't realized… There was no way Emily could have '_casually'_ made such a decision. It must have pained her just as taking the life of her own son had pained Cat. It must have _plagued_ her all these years. She hadn't realized that that calm and pragmatism she so admired… it was only a mask. In place solely to shield her true thoughts, her true fears. It was a matter of dignity. It was because she _couldn't_ be seen by her mother and their peers to doubt her decisions. It would be an admission of guilt, and she couldn't handle it… Cat felt she understood that now. She couldn't bear to doubt her own reasons either. She had to believe that taking her Joseph off the life-support was the best thing for his sake too. There had been nothing she could do for him anymore, just as there had been nothing her cousin, at 15, could have done for her child…

That was why she had to be there. She had to be there so that she could _tell_ her, so that she would know that Cat _understood_, and that she knew she _deserved_ the child she was having now, and that she would be able to take care of it…

Most of all, she had to tell her that, no matter what, she deserved love too. And that if the Catholic Church had been wrong about the morality of abortion, and about euthanizing her son, as she had to believe they were, then maybe they were wrong about homosexuality too. Maybe love really was _just_ love, no matter what form it came in. She had to believe that her cousin deserved to be happy… If she didn't, then there was no way that Cat herself deserved to be happy. They were both warm-blooded sinners at a crossroads, and if they couldn't believe that at least one path led to happiness, then there was nothing left for them. She had to _try_...

Yes. She would _try_ to be happy for her cousin.

-

Emily and her spouse were a couple of the first to enter the church, and Cat noticed them the minute they walked in. Frozen by Joe's coffin, one hand resting on a smooth wooden edge, she turned her body toward them, immediately catching Emily's gaze. She did her best to smile as her cousin led her companion by hand to a pew in the back, and not wanting to single them out to the few others in the church, averted her gaze over to her husband, sitting nearby. He stared back at her helplessly. He looked lost, empty, in need of direction. She only wish she had something to offer him. Slowly, she let her hand fall from the coffin and she went to sit by him, sliding that hand over his and leaning over to kiss his neck softly.

'_I'm here,'_ she said without words.

A weak but heartfelt smile indicated that he had heard her.

-

When Elizabeth Prentiss entered the church her daughter and her wife were already seated at the back. As they stared ahead she took a moment to observe them. She hadn't seen her child in months and had to admit surprise at the size of her stomach. Had Emily been apparent so quickly in her own? Maybe she had. Her attention had been necessarily elsewhere at the time. Elizabeth felt a pang as she thought that. She hadn't meant to, but at the time her daughter had been nothing more than an inconvenience. Morning sickness made her late in the mornings and she found herself drinking coffee at every opportunity, despite the risks, just to keep herself awake. It had been a hard pregnancy. She'd been glad when it was over.

Emily though… She and this woman, Ms Jareau, from what she'd seen, looked perfectly content. As she passed, glancing to the side, the dark bags beneath her daughter's eyes were painfully evident, though well concealed, and yet the eyes themselves were shining, the cheeks were pink. Her partner's hand rested steadily on her thigh. Their fingers intertwined. They looked about as happy as it was possible to look in such circumstances. As she leaned down to greet them both, she smelled orange juice on her daughter's breath— not a trace of coffee. Suddenly guilt-ridden, she wondered if her actions had been selfish, if they had made any real impact on her daughter. She wondered shamefully if Emily was somehow aware how much coffee she'd drank during her own pregnancy. Out of nowhere, she felt like apologising, but held herself back.

"It's good to see you both looking well," she said honestly. "Have you spoken to Catherine?"

Emily appeared guilty as she admitted that she hadn't yet, and enquired to how she was. Equally guilty, Elizabeth admitted that she hadn't spoken to her yet either. She didn't move to, but instead seated herself by JJ and asked about the baby.

"She's doing well," JJ replied smilingly. "Kicking a lot— exploring muscle movement, according to Dr Reid— he's a colleague of ours... Emily says she's just throwing a temper tantrum, which _I_ reckon she gets from her mother." She blushed suddenly, wondering if she'd said the wrong thing, but Elizabeth just laughed, shocking her daughter and her wife into silence.

"Don't blame her," she said. "If her pregnancy is anything like mine was with her… just be glad she's not the one throwing kicks."

JJ glanced at Emily, unsure how to react. Elizabeth Prentiss was making jokes, she hadn't been prepared for this! She'd expected cool disapproval at _best_! Eventually she tried to respond just as lightly, though it came out rather forced. "Not _too_ many," she agreed, "Though the caffeine withdrawal's been vexing her, especially lately."

"At least I gave it up," Emily protested, and while Elizabeth knew that this was not a personal stab against her, and that her daughter couldn't _possibly_ know that she had _doubled_ her caffeine intake in those crucial nine months, she felt once again incredibly guilty.

"My daughter's a good girl and I'm proud of her," Elizabeth told JJ explicitly, taking her free hand in both of hers. "Please take care of her and her— well, _both of your_ child."

"I will," said JJ, unable to say anything else.

Emily, meanwhile, almost had tears in her eyes as her mother stood, ready to move up toward the grieving family. "Mom, you've never said that before," she said, looking up at her in something akin to awe. "Do you mean it?"

"You've never called me 'mom' either, not since you were a child," Elizabeth replied, standing half in the aisle, half over her daughter now. "I've missed it."

"I guess it's because you've never acted much like a mom before now," Emily told her, not out of spite, but honestly.

"I know I haven't," Elizabeth agreed. "I always put my work above you when you were a child. I reasoned that a child could be raised by anyone. My work was for me alone. Somewhere along the line I forgot that not only were you a child who deserved better than that… You were, are, _my_ child. I'm sorry, Emily."

"It's okay, I mean, I'm alright, but…"

"I'm sorry I never gave up coffee for you," Elizabeth said suddenly. "I wanted to. I even tried to. But I wasn't strong enough."

Emily's brow furrowed slightly, though not in anger or disappointment. She seemed to be really _seeing_ her mother for the first time. Maybe because she'd never seen the woman to admit a fault before. "It's hard," she agreed empathetically. "It helps to reroute your cravings to something safe. I've been getting high on orange juice." She laughed helplessly.

The advice might have come almost forty years too late, but Elizabeth still appreciated it. "I was under a lot of stress at work," she said, not so much an excuse as an explanation.

"I understand," Emily replied honestly, another first, and the two women shared a mutually soothing glance before Elizabeth turned off down the aisle.

JJ, clearly knowing that she had just witnessed something private and important, was left unsure whether or not to speak. A few minutes passed in silence and then suddenly, out of nowhere, Emily squeezed JJ's hand tight. When she looked up, she saw tears streaming from her eyes.

"Em…"

"I'm so glad…" Emily whispered through her tears. "I thought I'd never find her!"

JJ's confusion faded into sympathy. "It's okay, sweetie. It's okay now."

Emily nodded, dissolving into helpless tears. "I'm so glad you're here with me, Jen…"

-

"Poor Emily… She looked so nervous leaving the hotel this morning," Garcia mused, too worried about her friend even to strike a pose as she slumped back onto her bed. Morgan had been up and dressed hours ago, and yet she was still unchanged. She just wasn't in the mood.

"Poor Emily?" Morgan repeated incredulously in an attempt to lighten that mood as he sat down beside her, causing their shoulders to brush not-quite-casually. "Did you see JJ? She looked like a lamb going off to slaughter!" When Garcia didn't laugh he fell silent for a minute before cautiously attempting to console her. "Try not to worry, baby girl. Emily's strong, she can make it through this one day of family not-fun."

"It's not the family," Garcia told him emphatically. "It's the kid. She's about to have a baby, she doesn't need to be reminded of all the horrible things that can happen to innocent little children. I mean, it's bad enough what you guys see in the field… I just wish the world would give her a break, you know?"

Something struck with Morgan as she said that and for a while he couldn't see how, then he remembered what his girls had told him the night before. "…Maybe she doesn't need a break, maybe that'd just give her more time to brood," he tried. "I reckon if she wants to overcome those fears she's got to face up to them, look them in the eye, right? This could help her."

Garcia looked up at him skeptically, and in any other circumstance might have been privately delighted at how close their faces had somehow become in the course of that short conversation. Instead, she drew away. "You could be right…" she admitted, though her body language revealed her to be not entirely convinced.

"Could be?" Morgan repeated, as lightly as he could without seeming careless, or worse, as though he wasn't concerned about his friends. Carefully, he changed the subject. "…Have you given any thought to what you want to do today?"

Garcia glanced up in surprise. Yes, she'd known that Emily and JJ would be out today, and that, indeed, they mightn't be back until late in the afternoon, but she hadn't considered that she was supposed to be doing something with her day too. She'd told Emily not to forget that she was on holiday, but Garcia herself had done just that. Funny, how easy it had been… Eventually she replied to Morgan's question that no, she hadn't thought of it at all.

"You could start by maybe hopping in the shower," he suggested. "I could look through some guide books, figure us some options…?"

Garcia smiled at him gratefully. "I'm so lucky to have you here for me, hot stuff," she told him, and though her tone was light, he could tell that she meant it and honestly, it made his heart flutter in a way that he'd forgotten it could until recently.

"Go get wet, baby girl," he retorted, nudging her toward the bathroom cockily, and he grinned at her typical response:

"_Gladly._"

-

By the time Garcia was dressed and out of the shower, Morgan had settled on a page in the guidebook, which he hid conspiratorially from her as she started toweling her hair dry beside him.

"Come on, give me a hint," she pleaded as he snapped the book shut, grinning widely. "Please?"

"Don't you worry your little butt about it, baby girl. Your man's got the day's entertainment covered!"

"_That's_ what I'm worried about," Garcia muttered, turning her back on him to brush her hair out.

For his part, Morgan didn't think he'd ever seen her hair like that. It was thick, dark and gorgeously falling in big wet curls across her face. He found himself disappointed as she turned away, but forced himself to keep on topic. "It's a surprise," he explained, then joked, "Does it always take you this long with your hair?"

She had just abandoned the brush and was clipping the rest of her hair out of the way as she blow-dried her fringe straight. "Yes," she replied simply. "It's a pain we women must all take to be beautiful."

"Right, well, no pains today, Princess," Morgan told her resolutely, managing to tug the blow-drier away, though not without resistance. "Just put it in a ponytail and let's head out."

"Just put it in a ponytail," Garcia repeated in a deadpan. "When have I _ever_ 'just put it in a ponytail'? I am not _capable_ of that."

"Oh, yes you are, you baby," Morgan laughed, grabbing her pink scrunchie from the table. "Here, let me."

"Baby, I love you, but—"

"_Ah, ah_, no buts," Morgan chided her with a grin, and she fell silent completely as she felt his hands on the back of her neck, gently scooping up her hair.

Garcia found herself sighing helplessly as they left, job complete, and unbeknownst to her, Morgan grinned widely behind her. "It's still wet," she protested weakly as he stepped away.

"Not for long," Morgan replied, and she couldn't help but fall back in shock as he pulled open the curtains, revealing a bright, hot sun already high in the sky. "That's Australia for you."

For the first time, Garcia moved over to the window and actually took a look at the city she'd seen barely a street of in detail since she'd arrived. It was gorgeous. She really couldn't wait to get to know this place, its nuances, its people…

"…Now you see that big bridge over there, between those two buildings, baby girl? That's called the _Sydney Harbour Bridge_—"

"Oh, shut up, Mr. Know-It-All, I _do_ know my landmarks," Garcia interrupted teasingly. "Besides, I read your guidebook while you were sleeping."

The look on Morgan's face screamed _'Sacrilege'_, but he let it go. "Come on, baby girl, we've got a big day ahead of us and I'm starved. Let's get out of here."

She smiled as he held the door open for her. "Don't mind if I do!"

-

As Emily had predicted, JJ found all of her relatives to welcoming and polite, if somewhat superficial, and had trouble with none of them as far as the service, and burial went. It was only in the isolation of the car back to Catherine's house for lunch, with only Emily, JJ, the driver and her husband to bear witness, that one of the guests became a little edgy, though even that was mild.

As for Emily, she was having trouble figuring out which was worse: the quiet disapproval of her family, so well hidden from outsiders like JJ, that only she picked up on, or JJ's mother's passionate, outright dissatisfaction, which at the very least, could be worked through once identified. The half hour in the car with her cousin Mary had been absolute hell, though either JJ was a very good actor, or she hadn't so much as noticed the looks she was getting… Mary had always been a religious girl to the point of absolute silliness. If the bible said it, then it was word-for-word true, no questions asked. She didn't pause to think that maybe the _humans_ who had written the bible might have had an agenda of their own. In this manner, homosexuals were all evil, quite regardless that she had two very nice ones sitting within ten feet of her, and though she tried, in the Prentiss family manner, to conceal it, by the end of that half hour she was having great trouble doing so.

Needless to say, all parties, not least of all Mary's embarrassed husband, Ryan, were glad to get out of the car when it arrived at the house, and Ryan even went so far as to congratulate them both, and apologise for her behaviour behind her back.

It was at the house that JJ got her first good look of the grieving mother, alone in an adjoining courtyard, separate from, and unnoticed by, the family in the garden. At one point, as Emily chatted politely to her aunt, she even caught her eye. She appeared guilty, apologetic, and JJ couldn't help but smile at her reassuringly. Cat only looked down at her lap, blushing some.

When this had gone on for some time, JJ excused herself to the bathroom, complaining of a stomachache, and though Emily showed concern, she let her go. Covertly, JJ ducked away from the house and moved into the courtyard, where Catherine stood abruptly, surprised.

"Ms Jareau—!"

"JJ's fine, or Jennifer even, though only Emily seems to call me that," JJ said in her best I'm-a-special-agent-to-the-FBI-and-everything's-going-to-be-all-right tone as she gestured for Cat to sit back down. "You must be Catherine," she said warmly. She might have said 'Ms' as well, but realized at the last moment that she didn't know so much as the woman's married name. Suddenly, she thought that maybe she was in a bit over her head, but tried not to let it deter her. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Even to her own ears it sounded shallow and cliché.

"I've—" Catherine cleared her throat quietly. "I've heard that so many times today and yet I still can't believe it…"

"I know how that feels," JJ agreed empathetically. "…I had a boy once, Henry. He and his nanny were hit by a car. His stroller went off the side of the road and rolled into a stream. Ironic that his seatbelt would have caused him to drown. We thought we were protecting him…"

"You can't protect them, you can only prepare them," Catherine said, and JJ agreed.

"You're right," she said. "But I always thought I could have done a better job of it." She smiled weakly.

"You know, not two weeks ago there was a story in the news here about a baby in a pram who slipped onto the railroads in the path of an oncoming train. Barely a scratch on him. The seatbelt saved his little life, kept his body off the track." Catherine shrugged slowly. "I'm not sure what I'm trying to say by this, but maybe there are things that are going to happen no matter what, and we can't stop them. Maybe there's a date set for all of us that we can't avoid. Seatbelt or no seatbelt."

"…If I start to believe that the victims of the killers it's my job, my duty, to catch are supposed to die then how can I do that?" JJ asked, more to herself than to Catherine, and there was no answer to such a question, leaving both women necessarily silent.

"…I know that that's something you need to believe to do your job…" Catherine said eventually. "But my baby was marked from the day he was born. _I_ have to believe that he was always going to die. There can't be something I could have done, but didn't, you know?"

Without knowing quite how it occurred, JJ found herself embracing the other woman, and upon pulling back said decidedly that no, it was never her fault. He was suffering and that was that. "I don't profess to know what happens after death, but for the sake of those I can't save in my line of work, and for my son, I like to think it's something good, that maybe Heaven does exist… In any case, those people, those children, they can't suffer any more where they are. If there is a God, He wouldn't be so cruel as to let that occur."

Catherine laughed bitterly. "People keep telling me that my son is with God now, but when I think of all the times I begged that same God to let him stay down here with me, it's hard to think of Him as anything _but_ cruel."

Not for the first time, JJ was unsure how to respond. Eventually, with nothing better in mind, she quoted a much-loved movie. "When God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." She wasn't religious, not at all, but she knew from experience that for some, losing faith in God was like losing faith in life itself. She didn't want that for this unfortunate woman. "You've got to allow the flowers to grow again," she said, attracting the curious gaze of her companion— they were, after all, in a garden surrounded by beautiful flowers. "What I mean is, you can't let everything fall apart just because he's gone now, because he wouldn't have wanted that, _doesn't_ want that. He's got eternity somewhere to watch over the people he loves, and I'm sure he'd rather see you getting on with your life, getting back into the things that having a sick child must have meant giving up for you, than falling into despair."

This apparently hit a sore spot with her, because without warning she burst into tears, leaving JJ to pat her back awkwardly and comfort her as best she could. She couldn't know that this had been her thinking all along, and that she had only confirmed it. She couldn't know the service she was doing for that woman by doing so. She could only attempt to console her.

-

Ten minutes later, when JJ still hadn't returned from the bathroom, Emily excused herself with the intention of checking on her, only to glimpse her in the periphery of her vision in the adjoining courtyard. She froze, blood stilling in her veins, as she realized who her wife was talking to. She wasn't sure if she was ready to speak to Catherine yet, but here she was with no other choice. JJ had seen her now and she couldn't very well walk away. Reluctantly, nervously, she approached.

"How are you, Cat?" she asked quietly, causing her cousin to glance up in surprise.

"Em!"

Emily herself was just as surprised to see a smile breaking out across her face.

"Em, you have a _lovely_ wife. Congratulations," said Catherine in a tone warmer than she'd heard from any Prentiss in her lifetime.

"Th-thank you," Emily replied after a moment's shocked silence. "I must say I'd expected less…"

"I've given you reason to…" Catherine admitted, eager to explain. "It's just that I— After Joe was born. I couldn't bear to think of the child you gave up in Rome. I thought you'd done it carelessly, and I didn't understand—"

"It's okay," Emily replied simply. "I understand. I've always understood. I'm just glad that we can put it behind us now. Can't we, Cat?"

Cat smiled tearfully. "I'd love to."

"I hope our being here isn't upsetting you," said Emily, referring to her and the baby more than her and JJ, but Catherine just shook her head.

"It's nice to see you," she said honestly. "You know they say when God closes a door, somewhere he opens a window."

Emily immediately crooked an eyebrow at her wife. "JJ, have you been using movie quotes as a substitute for conversation _again_?"

JJ grinned guiltily and Catherine laughed. "It's true," she said smilingly. "I've got to allow the flowers to grow again."

Once again Emily glanced at her wife suspiciously but neither her nor Cat said anything more, almost conspiratorially silent. She wondered what on Earth had passed between them, but didn't ask. She was simply glad that it _had_.


	3. Acrophobia: The Fear of Heights

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Author's Note: Not sure about this chapter, but my sister was nagging me to get it up and I promised it by the end of the day (it's now 11:34 pm). Hope it's alright, and thank you all for your kind support! -Becky

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 3**_

"_Hey, sweetheart, you got a name?"_

Morgan couldn't believe this. They hadn't even made it through the miniature training course for the Sydney Harbour Bridge Climb before the guy ahead of them had turned back and started flirting with _his girl_! This was supposed to be _his_ special treat! He did not need her repaying him by drooling over other guys in his presence! And okay, maybe she wasn't exactly _drooling_ just yet, but she hadn't asked him to shut up either! And Morgan _definitely_ felt that the situation warranted it by this stage.

"Penelope," she replied, and though she sounded incredibly excited, he told himself that it was probably due more to the prospect of getting up the Harbour Bridge than because of that _jerktwad_ shamelessly flirting with her.

"Yeah? Where're you from, Penelope?" he asked, not seeming to notice the vein throbbing in the forehead of the man behind her.

"Well I work in Virginia, you know, in the USA, but I was born in—"

"Hey, wow, I've got a cousin in Virginia!"

"_Seriously_?"

The vein continued to throb as they made their way out onto a pathway below the bridge. He heard her point out how cool it was when a train passed overhead and the whole thing rattled, but not to him. The vein almost popped. She was talking to the _guy_. Sourly, he clipped his harness onto the railing. This was going to be a long walk.

-

By the time the group had reached the top of the bridge, Morgan just wanted off it. At one point he'd started _counting_ the number of times she'd laughed at his stupid jokes and he was already up to 37. _37_! When did she ever laugh at _his_ jokes 37 times in one sitting? And he was the one she was supposed to be _with_, goddammit!

It didn't help that he had been walking behind her the entire time. When she'd tripped and fallen back against him, and when they'd been going up those _really_ steep stairs and her bum had in his direct line of sight for at least 45 consecutive seconds… In any case, by the time they were setting up to take photos over the harbour he hardly felt like standing in one with her. That was until he realized how much fun she was having.

He'd glanced over intending to shoot her the sort of long-suffering look he usually reserved for moving into the second hour of one of her stupid chick-flicks, but in doing so he'd realized, entirely out of the blue, that not one of those 37 laughs had been a personal stab at him. They'd simply been an expression of her joy. And no matter the reason, if she was _happy_…

Morgan walked over to Garcia and the man she'd been talking with, and she beamed as she saw him approach. "Morgan, thank you so much for this! It's been amazing!" she laughed, then she turned to her friend. "I told you you could do it, James! You just needed to take your mind off it!"

"You did a great job of that, Penelope," he replied gratefully. "I never would have been able to get up here without you, and now that I am… I don't know how I could ever have been worried!"

Garcia smiled back at Morgan, feeling the need to explain to him. "James has been taking a course on conquering his fear of heights for the past few years. This was his big test! Wanna take that photo now? I promise I'll be a much more attentive chica on the way down. I just had to give the guy a hand, you know?"

Morgan felt his heart drop into his stomach. "I am such a jerk…" he muttered to himself, not seeming to realize that he'd said it aloud.

"Hmm?"

He coughed guiltily. "All this time I've been jealous of you paying so much attention to this guy— uh, to _James_. But I guess if I'd actually paid more attention to _you_ I would have realized that you were only trying to be helpful."

"That… _and_ he's kinda cute. Don't you think?" Garcia winked and laughed as the look on his face transformed. "I'm kidding! Listen, Morgan, if you were so pissed off at me for not talking to you, then why didn't you try to strike up a conversation yourself? Or even just _say_ so? Simply 'Hey, Pen, what do you think of the bridge so far?' would have done…?"

"You looked happy," he admitted gruffly. "I would have liked to be the cause of that happiness, but—"

"You idiot! You _are_," Garcia exclaimed, rolling her eyes like it was obvious. "Morgan, I'm _never_ happier than when I'm with you. I'm so glad you're here. …Wow, I just can't believe you be so thick as to think that I'd abandon _you_, my gorgeous chocolate God, best friend of mine for _candy_ knows how long, for some guy I _just met_!"

"Gorgeous, you can't blame a guy for being jealous," Morgan replied, trying to mask his embarrassment in confidence. All the same, he could hardly look her in the eye for fear of betraying himself. Instead, he turned back to James, who had stepped aside to give them some space and was now gazing out at the scenery by himself, having evidently come alone. "Hey! Uh… _mate_." He called over, grinning awkwardly. "Do you want to take your picture with us?"

James turned around slowly, obviously surprised, but seeing Morgan and Garcia smiling at him, his confused look morphed immediately into an ear-to-ear grin. "It'd mean a lot to me," he said gratefully. "Mentally I've been training for this for years, but I'd never have got up here in practice without your girl. I'd love to have a photograph as a memory of that."

That settled it. Morgan was more than happy to be gorgeously kind and obliging, just so long as the guy could accept that Garcia was '_his girl'…_

"Great, so uhh… What sports are you Australians into anyway?"

Garcia beamed as they approached the photographer. After all, if the men were talking about sports, all must have been forgiven.

-

"You know, it was incredibly cute how jealous you were of me and James," Garcia mused over the printed out photograph as they walked aimlessly around the city later that afternoon. "Look you can even see it here: you've got your arm around me and we're standing to one side, and he's a little over there by himself. Gosh, you'd think we were married or something, the way you act…"

Morgan had expected this, and he ignored her pointedly. Eventually she changed tack, attempting to guilt him into a confession.

"You know, I did have a great time today. I've never seen anything so beautiful as what I saw up there. It was unreal."

"Are you ready to head back?" Morgan asked, ignoring her attempts.

He watched from the corner of his eye as her face fell a little. "Already?" she asked, and he nodded. "I don't know... Is there anything in the guidebook that looks like fun for this evening?"

He grinned in response. "Actually, I was _hoping_ you'd say that."

-

"Thank you for helping me bring in the plates, Jennifer, but you can go back out with the other guests now. Your wife is probably wondering where you are," Catherine offered as she turned on the water in the sink.

"You're going to do that now?" asked JJ, surprised. "There are so many."

"Well, yes, but I can't be seen to have an unclean home, can I?" Catherine replied, almost as though she were explaining something to a young child.

JJ bristled a bit at the implication. "I'm sure your guests would rather see you outside, joining in," she said. "I know that I wouldn't like to think of you alone in here cleaning up on one of the most difficult days of your life!"

"Jennifer, you're sweet, but I really do need to do this," Catherine maintained. "If my mother came in a saw the place a mess—"

"No one expects you to be queen of the Home Makers Society _today_, Cat. Come outside."

Catherine continued to frown. "Jennifer, wherever you come from, I really envy you."

"What do you mean?" asked JJ uncertainly.

"I'm a _Prentiss_," Catherine explained. "_Especially_ today, I have to appear at my best. If I broke down or devoted any less effort to running my household I'd be considered derelict, useless. At the next family reunion they'd be saying 'Pity what happened to old Catherine. She used to be such a practical, level-headed girl…'"

JJ had heard enough. "This is where it comes from!" she exclaimed, causing Catherine to jump in surprise. Perhaps she'd been expecting sympathy. "Do you have any idea how low it took me to get Emily to open up to me, to _be herself_ around me? Everything was about _image_ with her, and it's still there to a lesser extent." Catherine wrung her hands helplessly. "Do you know, my Henry was like her child too? We weren't a couple at the time, but I was having trouble with my fiancé… I'd never really wanted to marry him, it was just something he'd expected, you know? I don't think I ever even accepted his proposal. Anyway, when Henry was born, she was there a hell of a lot more than he was. Henry loved her like a second mother, more than he ever loved his good-for-nothing father. It was always 'Hey, mom, where's Emily?' He didn't understand why she wasn't there every morning when he woke up."

"That's sweet—"

"But do you know what happened when he died?" JJ asked, her voice rising a little. "Suddenly he was all _my_ baby_. 'I'm so sorry for _your_ loss, Jen'_ and that. Like _she_ wasn't hurting just as much! Cat, she got so withdrawn, and I knew she was devastated but she wouldn't talk to me about it. She made all the plans for the funeral, oversaw everything that went on, but she refused to be anything but pragmatic. She was so empty… It was unbearable! It was like not only had I lost my son, but I'd lost her too. She had her walls up again. And Cat, don't think your husband's not up against those same walls in you right now, because he is. And he's trying desperately to get through to you, I've seen him! For _goodness' sake_, Cat. Leave the washing up and go and mourn with your husband. It's not fair to make him do this alone, especially not today!"

Suddenly Catherine was in tears on JJ's shoulder, and she patted her on the back gratefully as she let it all fall down.

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I've spent so long devoting my life to my son that I don't know what to do now that he's gone."

JJ tightened her arms around Catherine encouragingly. "Well the first thing I did was to break it off with my fiancé, and tell Emily that I loved her... If I were you, I'd remind your husband how much you love him too. Or buy a book, join a club, take up a hobby…" She paused uncertainly. "…Maybe call a friend you haven't spoken to in a long time?"

It was just a guess. JJ supposed she hadn't had a lot of time for nights out with the girls lately, but the simple suggestion caused Catherine's head to jolt up suddenly. "Do you think she'd even pick up?" she asked quickly.

JJ wasn't sure who 'she' was exactly, but she assured Catherine that 'she' would. "Trust me," she said. "The rest of the world understands suffering, and the things we do for love, _far_ more than all of those politicians out there." She winced, not meaning to insult Catherine's family in front of her, but she didn't seem to notice, she was so taken with the idea of calling this mystery woman. "I'm sure 'she'll' understand."

"I haven't spoken to her once in four years…"

JJ raised an eyebrow. "That's a long time," she agreed slowly, and Catherine's face fell. "…So I guess that means you'd better call right away." JJ grinned at the hope on her face. "Go on, I'll wait outside. Don't waste any more time."

They parted, and then jumped at a knock on the door.

"Yes?" Catherine called, voice quavering.

"It's only me," said Emily, poking her head through the door. "I just wanted to see if you and my wife were all right?" She smiled at the thumbs up JJ gave her and looked back at Catherine.

"Brilliant," her cousin replied, giggling helplessly. "She's a lovely girl, Em. Thank you for bringing her here."

"Just as long as you remember she's mine," Emily agreed with a wink, coming to stand behind JJ. "Are you sure you're all right."

"I'm just about to ring Joanna."

Catherine sounded almost giddy, and apparently the name struck something with Emily because she smiled widely. "Good for you," she told her. "She really should be here."

JJ didn't question her, merely took her arm and nodded towards the door. "Let's give her some privacy," she suggested, and Emily nodded.

"We'll be outside, mingling, if you need us," she said, smiling earnestly at her cousin. "Cat, it's great to see you doing so well."

"And you, Em," Catherine agreed, leaning over to give her cousin and her wife a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

Once again, Emily smiled and they left. She ignored JJ's curious gaze on her face until they were out in the garden.

"Who's Joanna?" JJ asked, her head cocked to one side as she attempted to read her wife's earlier reaction to the name.

"I'll tell you later," Emily promised, and just as she said it, she saw her— Joanna, Catherine's neighbour of 12 years. She hadn't had far to come, and she'd come as quickly as she could. "JJ. That's Joanna there," she whispered, pointing over to the gate.

At first JJ wondered why she'd whispered it, and then she realized— every single Prentiss in the garden had fallen silent to stare.

Joanna was tall with long lanky limbs, and a thin freckled face. She had long, curly copper hair tied up with a plain brown elastic band. A dishrag protruded slightly from the pocket of her tie-dye apron and left a damp spot on the side of her paint-splattered blue jeans. Quick, darting blue eyes searched the premises for her friend. She couldn't have stood out anymore against the monochrome stateliness of the gathered Prentisses if she'd tried.

Emily walked over to Joanna quickly and stood in front of her, blocking her from the view of her family, and JJ wondered whether or not to follow, eventually deciding to tag along a few steps behind.

"Joanna, it's good to see you," Emily said, calmly ignoring all of the eyes on them. "Are you well?"

"Emily, I haven't seen you in _years_, and _goodness_! Your belly is huge, I had no idea! —_Oh_! And who's this? Could it be, more than just 2 Prentisses not shooting me death glares this year?"

JJ stepped forward awkwardly and offered her hand. "I'm not a Prentiss," she admitted. "Well, not officially."

"That explains it," Joanna agreed. "So what, are you related to Edward? His relatives don't usually like to show their faces where Cat's are concerned. What's your name?"

"I'm, uhh…"

"Joanna, this is my wife, Jennifer," Emily explained coolly, deciding to step in and spare her. "It's her first Prentiss family gathering, so I expect she's a bit nervous."

Joanna smiled knowingly. "I see! It's lovely to meet you, Jennifer."

"JJ," she offered lamely. "Catherine's in the kitchen, if you want to see her—"

"What is _she_ doing here?" an indignant voice called out, and as JJ turned she found a tall, prickly old woman striding towards them. She thought she might vaguely remember her being introduced as Emily's Aunt Jane, Catherine's mother. "Miss Rosen, you'd better have a good explanation for your presence here, or I swear I'll call the police!"

"Mother, calm down!" Catherine cried, running out the door. "I invited her here."

"You _what_?"

"I _want_ her here, mother." Turning to Joanna, Catherine smiled warmly. "Jo, it's so good to see you. I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Cat, _I_ was afraid you wouldn't want me here," Joanna replied, obviously relieved. "I was so happy to get your call. I'm sorry about Joe."

"Come on in, I'll get you a drink."

"Catherine Jane Prentiss, explain this to me at once!" her mother cried, stepping over to bar her path. "How could you possibly allow this— this _home wrecker_ onto the property!"

A vein had begun to throb in Catherine's forehead by now, and she looked physically pained by the confrontation. "Firstly, mother, my married name is Jones. _Jones,_ mother. I've been married for fifteen years! And secondly, I'm looking around here and I don't see a single wrecked home other than _yours_. Just because you couldn't forgive dad for having Elise at a time when you had barely _spoken_ to him for _years_—"

"Catherine, how _dare_ you march out here airing our ten-year-old dirty laundry for the world to see?!"

"—Just because _you_ hated dad 'til the day he died, and didn't even show up to his goddamn _funeral_—"

"_Young lady—_"

"Mother, I _do not care_ if she slept with my husband!" Catherine cried, stilling the entire garden and causing Joanna to blush profusely, arms folded across her chest in a defensive manner. "For goodness' sake, at least _one_ of us _got some_ these past 14 years! Joanna is my friend! And you will _not_ insult her in my home!" When everyone had been rendered suitably speechless, Catherine turned back to Joanna and apologized. "It had to be said…"

"…But did it have to be _screamed_?" Joanna asked, but she was smiling. "Cat, I'm so proud to have a friend like you."

"Is— Is that true, Catherine?" a small voice asked. "You don't care?"

Joanna whirled around to face her husband, the loveable idiot. "Edward, I've always understood completely why you felt you needed to do that. I've _never_ blamed you, _or_ Joanna. In the end, it was a victimless crime, and entirely my fault. I never paid you enough attention when Joseph was sick."

"Cat, I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Ed. I know."

JJ gave Emily a look as husband and wife embraced. "Are your family reunions usually like this?" she asked, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Actually, Cat's usually one to just sit and take it," Joanna explained. "It doesn't tend to end like this."

"Will your aunt be all right, Em?" Honestly, JJ wasn't _too_ worried about the old cow, but she felt she ought to ask.

Emily smirked in reply. "Oh, she's fine. Her dignity may be a little bruised, but she'll be the perfect home maker again by the time she's out of that bathroom." She nodded in the direction that Jane had just stormed off. "Catherine though… Jayj, I don't know what you said to her in the kitchen, but she's a new person. Thank you."

JJ blushed, and Joanna agreed.

"Em, your girl is amazing. Feel free to bring her by _anytime_."

Emily smiled widely. "She is amazing," she granted. "It's why I love her."

-

"Morgan, you're kidding. I am _not_ closing my eyes!" Garcia complained as Morgan led her onto the ferry, blindfolded by her own decorative scarf (the wearing of which had been a bad decision, it had turned out, considering the temperature that had soared into the low 40s that day). "_Morgan!_"

"Sorry," Morgan apologized, not really sorry at all, as she clipped her leg on the side of a chair.

"Honestly, Morgan. I'm going to be sick."

"No, you're not. I promise. I've got you," Morgan chuckled, sitting her down by a window. "No peeking, I'm just going to go outside on the deck for a minute and call Emily and JJ. I won't be long."

"No! Morgan! No _way_ are you going to leave me here, _blindfolded and nauseated_ by myself!"

"Relax, Pen," Morgan called, and she could hear that he was already retreating from the seat where he'd left her. "Just sit and enjoy the view a bit!"

"_Ha ha!!_" Garcia called back sarcastically, but she suspected he was already gone.

Outside, Morgan chuckled to himself as he flipped open his phone and dialed JJ. "Hey, girl, how're you going… Yeah, I did… It ended unpredictably well… Yeah, there was a little mishap with an Acrophobic— No, no. _Acrophobic_, Jayj… Yes, that _is_ different from being arachnophobic… What's the difference, Jayj? Well for a start, one is the fear of spiders and the other…"

-

JJ grinned as she hung up the phone, turning back to Emily. "Morgan took Garcia up the Harbour Bridge today and, sweet as ever, she offers to talk this guy with a fear of heights up it, you know, to distract him, but Morgan doesn't peg and he spends the entire trip up thinking she's just blatantly flirting with him!"

Emily chuckled quietly. "How'd he take that?"

"Seemed within an inch of beating the guy up 'til they got to the top and—"

"Hope I'm not interrupting?" a grisly old voice cut in, not sounding very much as though he cared whether or not he was interrupting at all.

"Uncle Roger, I hadn't seen you or I would have come over and said 'hi'," Emily said civilly. "How are you? Is your back doing any better lately?"

"This her?" Roger asked, jerking his cane at JJ unceremoniously. "She's a bit thin, isn't she? Needs a bit of meat on her. No wonder she's not the one carrying the child. Couldn't carry a _nut_ by the looks of her…"

Emily cringed at his directness. "Uncle Roger, this is my wife, Jennifer. Jayj, this is my uncle Roger, his daughter is my cousin Anne, you met her earlier."

"'_Jayj'_," Roger repeated distastefully. "You know in my day, we actually called each other by our birth names! If my mom had named me Brighton, by golly, I'd be called Brighton. Samuel, I'd be called Samuel. Not _Sam_, not _Sammy_. Samuel! What is _'Jayj'_ anyway? Sounds like one of them goddamn rapper names…"

"It's a nickname, Uncle Roger," Emily explained slowly, shooting JJ an apologetic smile. "We call her JJ because those are her initials, and 'Jayj' is like…"

"Nonsense!" Roger barked. "I bet your mother doesn't call you that! Absolute nonsense, if you ask me!" No one _had_, 'asked him' but he went on anyway. "Thought you were going to find yourself a decent husband, girl?" He was referring to Emily now. "Last I heard from your mother you were engaged! Never seen such a flighty generation of good for nothings… Take that _Joanna_ for instance—"

"Uncle Roger, last you heard I _was_ engaged, and now I'm _married_," Emily persisted. "I'm married to _Jennifer_."

JJ smiled awkwardly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Prentiss."

Both she and Emily cringed inwardly at the face Roger pulled in response. "I'm no Prentiss," he spat. "I'm just a rich old coffin dodger who made the unfortunate decision to marry an old bat based solely on her looks and her family. That is, her looks _at the time_. We've been married forty years and she tells me every day: 'Prentisses _never_ divorce, dear'. My ass! They're not supposed to be _lesbians_ either, but look at you two!"

"Uncle Rodger—"

"I know, I know, I'm _shutting up_," Rodger muttered in dissatisfaction. "It's what you Prentisses are always telling me. 'Be _quiet_, Rodger'. 'But nobody _asked_ for _your_ input, Rodger dear!' 'You must remember your _manners_, Rodger—"

"You really must, Uncle Rodger," Emily admitted, frowning deeply. "Jennifer is a part of this family now— _your_ family, though you may wish otherwise. You've got to start treating her as you would any of these other people, with _respect_!"

"You mean I've got to _act_ as though I respect her," Rodger grunted, and it was true. That was all any of this was after all.

"I'd really appreciate it if you tried, Uncle Rodger," Emily agreed earnestly, causing him to shuffle his feet in something like shame.

"I'll try, Em. Can't make any promises though."

"Uncle Rodger, if I saw you _trying_ it would just make my day," she said, smilingly and he shrugged.

"'Spose I could then," he mumbled. "See you around then, uhh… _JJ_."

Emily beamed at his back as he walked away. "He's completely harmless," she said as she turned back to JJ. "He's loud and obnoxious, but he's not a bad guy. He really will do his best." She smiled bitterly. "It's just hard for someone like him to marry into a family like mine… He wanted to be a racecar driver after the war was over, but then his family went and married him off to my Aunt Jessica."

"Poor guy," JJ managed cautiously, still not entirely sure about the man.

"Oh, he complains some, and he'll insult anything that moves, but he's not really so hard done by. He's actually quite affectionate toward Aunt Jess when he doesn't think he's being watched, and she speaks of him fondly, no matter what the rest of the family thinks of him."

"Is it really true that all of your family are just _acting_?" asked JJ anxiously. "All of the ones who said nice things to me today and made me think they were sweet?"

"Jayj, you grew up in a small town. You know how it goes: Your business is everybody's business," Emily tried to explain. "It's like that. Some of us may not like each other but we're a big family, an important family politically, and we have to be seen to be polite and courteous when we do meet. Catherine's most definitely sincere, I'll tell you that, and my mother, what she said this morning, in _that_ instance she was too… And Rodger, what good he _said_, he meant… But most of them you can't trust, not as far as you could through them. And I'm sorry if that upsets you, but it's just something I'm used to. Politics, the lot of it."

"When you said 'It must be hard for him to marry into a family like mine'…?"

"Don't let them put you off, Jayj. God no! I promise I won't let you end up bitter like Rodger, if that's what you're worried about—"

"No, Em, that's not it," said JJ quickly. "I just meant… Well, I don't think you should judge him so harshly. If he loves his wife like you say he does then the family wouldn't mean a thing to him. It'd be a nuisance, maybe, but it'd be well worth it. Rodger's probably just acting tough, and Emily, there's nothing I could see here today that would make me any less certain that you're the one for me, I promise. So please stop worrying. You're making me nervous."

Emily smiled gratefully, leaning forward to give her wife a quick kiss. "…So go on and tell me what happened to Pen and Derek up the Bridge again?"


	4. Milk and Two Sugars: A Long Day's End

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Author's Note: For the purpose of this chapter, neither international time differences, nor international calling codes exist. Ie. It is the same time everywhere across the globe, and you don't need to tap in those extra numbers to call internationally. Also, you can seriously thank my sister for this update. I'm barely allowed to eat, let alone procrastinate on this thing. Told her I'd have it up by the end of the day, yet again it's 11:42pm. But yeah, suffice to say that something's got to give when school starts on Friday… Until then, enjoy my semi-regular updates, and review, review, REVIEW! 3 Becky

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 4**_

"Morgan, I really am going to vomit…" Garcia moaned as her apparently insane colleague dragged her through what must have been a really thick crowd from the number of bumps she was getting. Then all of a sudden, they stopped. She felt him tamper with the scarf where it knotted behind her head. _Finally!_

"Open your eyes."

Garcia did so and the first thing she noticed was that it was really bright. The second thing she noticed, when her eyes had adjusted properly to that, was that it was already dark out… and that the light she had seen was in fact produced by a gigantic, glowing face. She resisted as Morgan took her hand to pull her through the mouth. "Woah, Candy Factor, what the hell _is_ this place?"

When he didn't reply she took in the ticket booth to her right, a Ferris Wheel and a roller coaster to her left… Okay, so it was a pretty dumb question really.

"It's called Luna Park," he explained, when he saw she'd found her bearings. They were now on the other side of the Harbour Bridge and she vaguely remembered the guide pointing it out from the top (right after the story about hundreds of thousands of rivets at the bottom of the harbour beneath the bridge, and the workers that had fallen to their deaths while constructing it— that hadn't been such a comforting one). She smiled widely as she realized that Morgan must have heard about it then too and immediately wanted to take her.

"Morgan, this is so amazing," she breathed. "Thank you!"

Morgan chuckled, scratching the back of his head in what was almost a bashful gesture (though it was hard to believe it of him). "Yeah, well, it's got the basics…"

"Morgan, it's perfect!" Garcia corrected him stubbornly. "Now, come tell me what this is over here: 'The Rotor'."

Morgan fished a brochure out of his pocket and looked it up. The look on his face said that 'The Rotor' was most definitely a 'no'. "Baby girl, if you're really about to throw up, this might be one to save for later," he explained, but that only made her more excited.

"Brilliant! Let's go give it a whirl!!"

-

As they left Catherine's home, with the sincerest blessings, around 7 that evening, having stayed to help clean up, Emily admitted to herself that she hadn't been entirely truthful with JJ about the last time she'd seen Catherine. It was true that Emily had had very little contact with her since she'd moved to Australia, and that Catherine had always tended to '_forget'_ her when she visited the US, but there had been one time that they had met, shortly after Emily had announced to her family that she was engaged to JJ.

They'd met, entirely by chance, in a supermarket near Emily's mother's home, where Catherine had been staying. And, like good Prentisses, they were civil enough to each other for the duration of the lunch that politeness dictated they must have together. It had only been dropping her cousin back to the Ambassador's house that Emily and Catherine had both come to walk in on Joanna Rosen with Catherine's husband, Edward.

And maybe it hadn't been the act itself, but the fact that her 'perfect' cousin had witnessed it, that made it so unforgiveable at the time. She may have understood it, but she couldn't condone it. She had been _forced_ to make contact with Emily. She hadn't _intended_ to. She'd known she couldn't stand hearing about her fantastic high-paying job _saving the world_ and the fiancée she was so desperately in love with, especially when she herself had neither a job, nor a spare minute for romance even with her own husband... But for Emily to see _that_ too! To see that last shred of a _pretence_ of happiness stripped away…

Catherine had really tried to be civil after that, brushing it off in the Prentiss way. She had led Emily into the living room and made tea, while Joseph wheeled himself out of his room in the ambassador's house and exclaimed to his aunt, not knowing the seriousness of the situation, what a _good day_ he was having. He looked like a wreck, and for the first time in his life, Catherine was almost ashamed to have him around, though Emily was nothing if not receptive to his presence, asking all sorts of questions. She supposed that it was less awkward than talking to _her_ would have been.

True to Prentiss form, Emily did not once mention what they had witnessed together, but said that it was very nice to see her, and that she should call around next time she was in town. At the time, it had almost sounded like a joke to Catherine, but now she thought she really might. Joseph though… Had she one last chance, she wouldn't have been ashamed of him a second time. She would have been proud to see him being his cheerful self, having one of his rare 'good days'. Of course, all that was over now.

As they parted at the house, both Emily and Catherine were inevitably remembering that day, and Emily felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she repeated the gesture: "Next time you're in my acre of the woods, you should come by". Except that now it was _"our_ acre of the woods." And Catherine wondered if she could stand to see that perfect happiness close up. A lived in home, a loving spouse, a small child… Smiling at Edward, she realized that maybe this time she could.

"I'm sure I'll have a lot of news," Catherine agreed. "Hopefully the good sort. We mustn't leave it so long next time."

"No, we mustn't," Emily agreed, glancing at JJ.

"It was lovely to meet you," JJ put in dutifully, and Catherine smiled at them both.

"The pleasure was all mine."

-

It was a slow day in the Hotchner House of Morbid Isolation, and briefly he considered going into the office. Of course, he was on leave like the others and had no work, per se, but he was sure he could find something to do, even at 7 o'clock in the evening… His next consideration was that maybe his team was having just as bad a time of it as he was, and he decided to call them, and see if he couldn't organize a round of drinks for the evening…

He tried Morgan first. Morgan was hardly the type to forsake a night of drinking and dancing, after all. He picked up just before it rang off.

"Morgan?"

"_Hotch? You've got to be kidding me. We've pulled a case??"_

"No, no. Nothing like that," Hotch amended quickly. "I was actually wondering if you were busy. Seemed like a good day for some team drinks."

"_I think you're going to have a problem with that…"_

"You're doing something tonight?"

"_I'm doing something for the next two weeks, Hotch. …I'm in _Australia right now."

"The bar?"

"_No, Hotch. Australia, as in, the _Land Down Under_, Australia. I'm literally 24 hours away, and I'm on vacation."_

Hotch was about to hang up when he heard a voice in the background that sounded suspiciously like his technical analyst. "Garcia's there too?"

"_Hotch, did you hear about Emily's nephew's funeral? Her and JJ are also down here right now, and—"_

"What?"

"_Garcia's—"_

"What??"

"_GARCIA'S— uh, it's actually GETTING REALLY HARD TO HEAR YOU, HOTCH!"_

"Morgan? Morgan, what is that noise? Are you and Garcia both all right?"

"_I'M AT A CARNIVAL!"_

Hotch grimaced. He should have known. "All right, I'll see you back at work in three weeks then. Tell Garcia to stay away from the candy floss this time."

"_THE WHAT?"_

Hotch sighed roughly, frustration evident. "THE FREAKING CANDY FLOSS, MORGAN!!"

"_TOO LATE, HOTCH!"_

"WHAT???"

"_TOO LATE!"_

"WHA—?" Hotch paused as he heard a knock on the door. "I'VE GOT TO HANG UP NOW!"

"_HANG ON?"_

"NO! HANG UP! HANG _UP!_"

"_OH! SEE YOU!"_

The knocking on the door grew more and more persistent as Hotch hung up the phone, and he went over and opened it cautiously. "Aaron Hotcher," he stated, before smiling as he realized who it was.

"Aaron, was that you making all that racket?"

Hotch couldn't help but smile at the woman at the door. She was gorgeous. Long brown hair, perfectly curled, milky white teeth and bright red lips… Not to mention that she may as well have been dressed for the opera. "Are you going out tonight, Gabriella?" he inquired of his neighbour, and she blushed lightly at the question.

"I was actually going to see some old reruns of Charlie Chaplin at this posh club in town, but my friend bailed out on me at the last minute, so here I am dressed to impress, but I'll probably end the night in some bar." She smiled humourlessly.

"Charlie Chaplin? Aren't you too young to be into that stuff?" asked Hotch, eyes widening slightly.

"Oh, you're never too young for Chaplin, Aaron! He's timeless!" Gabriella replied brightly. "Are you a fan?"

"Of course!" Hotch agreed. "He's the best, always will be! As you say, he's timeless."

"Brilliant! Aaron, I know this is rather forward of me, but… will _you_ come out with me tonight?"

"Wow, uh, Gabriella…"

"Gabby," she corrected him. "Please, Aaron? It'd be such a shame for the tickets to go to waste, and I'm sure you'd enjoy it?"

He _did_ need something to do for the night, and she _was_, well… _gorgeous_. And yet something didn't sit right with him. "Gabriella, I'm sorry. I think I really need to spend some time with my ex-wife and my son tonight."

"Oh, I— I understand."

"Thanks for the offer, Gabriella," he said, slipping past her and into the hallway, a pleasant feeling of release overtaking him as he did so. "Maybe another time."

"Okay," she agreed, but they both knew there would be no other time, and God help him if Hotch was going to be anywhere but right by his family around this time of year. It was time to make things right with Haley, for better or for worse.

…Why did that last phrase sound vaguely familiar to him?

-

When Garcia had said she'd "Give it a whirl," she hadn't realized just how accurate she'd been. 'The Rotor' was an upright barrel, rotated at 33 revolutions per minute, according to the carnival folk, exerting a centrifugal force of between 1 and 1.5 _g_ on its occupants.

In other words, it involved spinning around so fast you stuck to the walls, and was quite a '_whirl'_ indeed. In fact, Morgan and Garcia had only just stumbled off it and were considering lining up again, when Hotch had called.

For an amusement park, Luna Park wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was certainly not quiet. It had its fair share of screaming children, loud carnies, and booming music, even at this time in the evening. The fact that Hotch's call came from a cell phone thousands of miles away didn't help the connection any either, and they were soon yelling across the line, much to Garcia's embarrassment.

"For the sake of peppermint chocolates on blooming _Valentines' Day_, Morgan!" she exclaimed, waggling a finger at him as he shoved the phone back into his pocket sheepishly. "You're lucky I'm head over heels for you and your chocolate sculpted ass, or I'd be seriously pissed off right now!"

"You're right, I _am_ lucky for that," Morgan agreed, and the two shared an awkward smile. It was so much easier to joke about sex than love, Garcia realized belatedly.

"Take me up the Ferris Wheel?" she suggested, diverting the attention from the blush that was taking up residence on her cheeks.

"Uh, sure," Morgan agreed, and she was satisfied to see him avoiding her gaze for what appeared to be exactly the same reason.

Half the way up the Ferris Wheel, the ride stopped suddenly and a cheerful voice sprang out over the intercom. "Could everyone please direct their attention now to the top carriage of the Ferris Wheel."

Morgan and Garcia glanced at each other suspiciously before looking up. It looked perfectly normal to them, but even on the ground people were staring.

"There's a young man up there with something to say," the ride conductor continued. "You've got the floor, Jimmy. Take it away."

"Thanks, Don— Hey, don't give me that look, Linda I haven't said anything yet! I'll try not to embarrass you, I promise." The noise was coming from the top carriage now, and Garcia squinted up at the vague silhouette of the speaker curiously. "Linda, I _love_ you. I've _always_ loved you. When my mum had her heart attack last year you were the one right there for us the whole time, a right member of the family, even though I know I was taking it badly— taking it out on _you_ badly. When she woke up that first time she told me immediately_, 'You'd better marry that girl soon, Jimmy. I wanna live to see my grandbabies out in the world and you're wasting what precious time I've got left worrying whether or not she'll have you!'_ My mother told me that she knew you'd say yes, and though I doubted her at first, here I am. See, my mother also taught me to treasure the life we've got. And I don't want to wake up one day and find you gone, Linda. I want to tie you down and become a settled man by your side. I want to do that for you… Please marry me, Linda. You always said the top of this wheel was your favourite place in the world. Make it mine too."

Garcia smile widened impossibly as she heard a happy sniffle through Jimmy's microphone.

"Yes, Jimmy. Yes, I'll marry you," Linda cried and the two silhouettes above them merged together in an embrace.

"Let's hear it for Jimmy and Linda!" the ride conductor yelled and applause broke out all over the park, not least of all from Garcia, who jumped to her feet in excitement.

"Way to go, Jimmy!" she called up, and she grinned as he peered down at her over the side of the carriage. "Way to show some _balls_!"

Morgan grabbed her arm and sat her down beside him as the carriage began to rock, offering a sheepish wave up at 'Jimmy and Linda', smiling as they turned to look at each other lovingly.

"You've just made me the happiest woman alive, Jimmy," she told him, and Garcia glanced at Morgan skeptically.

"I think I have one up on her…" she said quietly. "I have _you_."

Morgan watched at his best friend seriously, reaching for her hand and staring at it, contemplating it, uncertainly. "Penelope…"

"Hmm?" her voice was soft, gentle, _alluring_.

Everything about the way she was sitting angled toward him, her knee brushing against his thigh, made him want to lean forward and kiss her. The way the flashing carnival lights illuminated her face, contributing to the natural glow of her flushed pink cheeks made him want to cup those cheeks in his hands, hold her close... She was his anodyne in a cruel world. His one true escape. His _God-given solace_… For the second time, he told her so, and this time she didn't ignore him, hang up on him. He wondered what she would do if she were not trapped within the confines of that carriage with him. Would she run? Slowly, the wheel creaked back into motion. His chance was gone once again.

-

It was late when Morgan and Garcia returned, and for a minute, as Garcia stood poised to knock outside JJ and Emily's room, they considered that maybe it was _too_ late, but the desire to know how their friends' day had gone, and to talk about their own, was too great, and they didn't let their doubts stall them for long.

"Em? Jayj? Are you guys still up?" Garcia called uncertainly as she knocked.

"Just a minute!" came the reply, and shuffling was heard within the room.

"Hey, you guys have a good day?" asked JJ, opening the door with a smile, wearing what appeared to be one of the hotel robes and nothing more. Emily, on the other side of the room, was clad in a very large maternity nightgown, and was in the middle of pulling on a pair of trousers beneath it. When she'd accomplished this, she joined JJ at the door, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt at further modesty.

"We had a great day," Garcia replied. "Were you guys sleeping? We could always talk over breakfast tomorrow."

"No, come on in," said JJ warmly. "We were having a bit of trouble sleeping anyway. Must be the time difference to Virginia. Just give me a second to freshen up in the bathroom."

"Of course," said Garcia, and as JJ stepped aside, Emily welcomed them in, unfolding her arms just long enough to find a light cardigan to wear and put on the kettle.

"Garcia, milk and two sugars?" she presumed knowingly, and Garcia nodded. "Morgan… you don't really seem the tea type. How do you feel about instant coffee?"

"I'm fine, really," said Morgan, and Emily gave him a look like _'Really? Are you sure?'_ before sitting down to wait for the kettle to come to a boil.

Why could women never seem to start a conversation without a drink in their hands? He supposed men were the same way in bars, but _tea_ was hardly the social lubricant that alcohol was. It just didn't make sense to him.

"Garcia, we heard Morgan took you up the bridge," said Emily, smilingly. "That must have been amazing."

"It _was_ amazing," Garcia agreed, deciding not to mention how jealous her best friend had become over her in those hours. "The view was absolutely out of this world, and there was such a sense of accomplishment once you got up there…"

"You could be reading out of a brochure, Pen," Emily chuckled, and Garcia shrugged ruefully.

"Maybe it's just amazing for everyone then," she suggested.

"Morgan, it's _you_ JJ said had the problem with the bridge…"

Garcia laughed happily, realizing that they already knew what she'd decided to keep from them, for the sake of Morgan's dignity. "It would have been funny if it weren't so darn cute!" she giggled, as Morgan assumed a defensive posture, arms crossed over his chest, and face turned to the side evasively. "JJ told you about the acrophobe?"

"In as much detail as Morgan would let on," Emily acknowledged. "We thought it was incredibly cute too."

Garcia beamed.

"Of course, it would be all the more adorable if Morgan actually went so far as admitting _why_ he was jealous…" JJ hinted, coming out of the bathroom in a red t-shirt and white shorts, and moving to sit cross-legged on the bed beside her wife.

As the girls stared at Morgan expectantly, the kettle chose that moment to sound off, and it was Morgan who got to his feet to make the drinks.

"Anyway," said JJ, breaking the silence that followed as Morgan pressed a steaming cup into her hands, "What did you do then? The Bridge Climb can't have taken so long that you're only just back. We tried your door ages ago… Unless you were otherwise preoccupied at that time...?"

Morgan ignored the implication and served the other girls their drinks before sitting back down. "We took a ferry to Luna Park, actually— a small amusement park on the other side of the bridge. A young couple were engaged on our round of the Ferris Wheel…"

"How adorable!"

"You haven't heard what he did though!" Garcia exclaimed, as though she'd only just remembered. "_Morgan_ here, decided he would truss me up and throw me on a boat, with no idea _where_ I was going, and then leave me amongst strangers and lunatics to call you!"

"I hardly _trussed you up_, Baby Girl, and they were more harmless _commuters_ than '_lunatics_'" Morgan replied, smirking at her, "Though I certainly _could_ 'truss you up', if that's the sort of thing you're into…?" To JJ and Emily, who were snickering at his comment, he admitted, "I blindfolded her. I wanted it to be a surprise. And, JJ, you're the witness— I was only gone for half a minute."

"He's right, Pen," JJ admitted laughingly. "It was hardly an age."

Garcia pouted as her girlfriends teamed up against her. "How was the funeral?" she asked, diverting the attention away from herself. "Did the family behave?"

"Better than I've ever seen them," Emily admitted. "Except for a small mishap, which my cousin quickly cleared up." She smiled proudly. "Even my mother was civil."

"Civil is one thing, sincere is another," Garcia scoffed, from personal experience with the ambassador.

Emily seemed lightly affronted. "Not today," she said. "She really tried today."

Garcia immediately took back her words. "I'm glad to hear it, Em," she said honestly, and Emily smiled in reply.

"We've actually made plans to go out with my cousin, her husband, and a few friends-of-friends next week," Emily admitted. "Shocking, I know, given my track record with my family…"

"Can't blame them for wanting to get close to you," said JJ, leaning against her wife's side contentedly. "I know I do."

Emily smiled down at her lovingly, rubbing back and forth over her swollen belly with a happy look on her face. "What did I ever do to deserve this woman?" she asked, causing Morgan and Garcia to smile. There was honestly nothing cuter than those two.

"I'm the one who's undeserving of my two beautiful girls…"

"Wait, so it's _certain_?" Garcia said suddenly. "You're definitely having a little girl?"

Emily and JJ exchanged looks. "We'd meant to wait to tell you all, but yes. It's certain. In 3 and a half months little Beatrice Joceline Prentiss-Jareau will become the newest member of the BAU team."

"Beatrice Joceline! That's adorable!" Garcia cried, flinging herself into JJ's arms, before ever so gently floating into Emily's.

"Oww," JJ complained, making a show of rubbing her arms as she watched the other two women embrace gently. "Almost makes me wish _I_ was the one carrying the child." Emily raised an eyebrow at her, and she conceded. "Maybe not quite… Morgan, before you go getting our Pen pregnant, just make sure you're totally prepared for the 9 months of hell she's going to be going through, and that she's going to put _you_ through for putting her in that position," she advised, grinning widely at the awkwardness on both of her friends' faces. "Also, be prepared for her to yell all sorts of abuse at you when she's in labour… but worse afterwards if you chicken out and don't sit through it."

"Just remember, your pain is always inferior to hers," said Emily. "And do whatever it takes to please her."

"Most of all though," JJ added, "Never ever_, ever_ complain that it's too much trouble. _Never_. It's a recipe for disaster."

"…Guys, you know that I'm not pregnant, right?" Garcia deadpanned at their seriousness.

"Yeah, we know," JJ laughed.

"And that me and my Baby Girl are just _friends_, nothing more?" Morgan added, but JJ and Emily only laughed at that one too.

"Get real, Morgan! You two are a match made in Heaven! You've just gotta realize that! Or better, _act on it_."

Once again, Garcia and Morgan exchanged glances, each desperately wishing that they could somehow know what the other was thinking.

"Wow, I'm beat," Garcia said suddenly. "First full day in a new country, new time zone, and we've been running around all day." She set her teacup on the bench in the miniature kitchen firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow, around 9, for breakfast, okay? And then we can figure out a game plan for the day— hopefully one that involves me buying a hot new swimsuit."

"Love to help with that," JJ agreed, while Morgan looked uncertain. What was _he_ supposed to do while she tried on swimwear anyway? Other than hang around awkwardly, making crude comments.

"See you in the morning guys," said Garcia, embracing JJ, and motioning to Emily that she wasn't to bother standing— her ankles probably hurt enough as it was.

"See you," Morgan agreed gruffly, and they left.

…But if Morgan thought he could escape his Baby Girl once they got to the room, he was dead wrong.


	5. Don't Call Me Baby Girl

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Author's Note: Glad to have figured out exactly where this is going, and here's hoping this chapter is all right— seemed a little off to me. Hope you guys like, and HAPPY AUSTRALIA DAY!! Much scheming ahead now. XX Becky

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 5**_

"Hey, Derek?" said Penelope uncertainly as she unlocked the door their room, only her back facing toward him as he stood behind her, waiting to be let in. "I think we need to talk."

Morgan raised an eyebrow at her as she turned to face him, opening the door behind her and stumbling in backwards.

"What do you think we need to talk about?" asked Morgan, moving to sit down on the edge of Garcia's bed and looking up at her curiously. She frowned in reply, sure that he already knew.

"For goodness' sake, you can't _not have heard_ what they were saying in there. They weren't exactly being _subtle_!" she said quietly, frustrated by his calm. "I don't know about you, Derek. Maybe you think it's _flattering_ when they talk about me and you that way. Maybe every time they do, you think to yourself, 'Yeah, I've still _got it_, baby.' _I don't know_. But I can't stand hearing it anymore!" Seeing the hurt look on his face, she softened a little, reminding herself that this was her best friend she was talking to, after all. "Derek… Trading innuendo with you has always been fun. It's kept both of our heads out of the dark for too long, and it's helped us get through some pretty tough cases. During that time I've been… I'm _honoured_ to have been your 'solace'. But I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry if it's just me… Please go and sit on your own bed, Morgan."

He didn't budge. "Baby Girl…?"

"No. _No_, Morgan! My name is _Penelope_! I'm not your _Baby Girl_, I'm just another woman who's sick of you pulling this s_hit_ on her! We both know it's never going anywhere between us. We're just friends, that's _that_, and I never want to hear another fucking _word_ to the contrary ever again, because honestly, Derek, it just hurts _too much_ right now!"

Garcia couldn't watch it sink in, seeing his eyes change in front of her in reaction to her outburst, so she turned on her heel and barricaded herself in the bathroom, saying that he'd _better_ be sitting back on his own bed by the time she'd had her bath or she was going to find another room. He didn't reply that, according to her, there had _been_ no other rooms, because he knew that there _had_ been and that the whole of the trip so far she had been trying to get close to him. He tried to understand why that was changing now, and then he realized:

It was _he_ who had blown it: on the Ferris Wheel, and in every other second that he _wasn't_ telling her how much he loved her. As the bathroom door shut, he stood up and went over to stand by the window, pulling the curtains apart glumly and staring out over the city. He knew it was his fault in the long run, but what had gone so wrong between Luna Park and now? What had been the final straw? The worst of it? He knew she wouldn't answer even if he asked.

-

As Garcia dragged herself out of the bath she found herself groaning. Why was the bench where she always put her clothes _empty_? She cursed herself for choosing the bathroom to storm into and briefly considered picking her dirty clothes off the floor and putting them back on, before realizing that they, as well as the rest of the floor around the bath, were all soaking wet. This was _not_ how she had wanted to seal the deal on their friendship with Morgan, but what choice did she have? She'd even searched around the bathroom for one of those thick, ugly robes JJ had been wearing, but gave up when she realized that they'd been in the cupboard with the spare pillows outside.

"Morgan?" she called out reluctantly.

It took him a few minutes to reply. "Yeah, Penelope?"

She smiled at his effort. She could hear 'Baby Girl' on the tip of his tongue. "Would you mind passing my nightie in through the door?"

Outside, Morgan froze, forcing himself to stay calm. He reminded himself that no matter what there was till a door, and likely a towel between them… and yet, he really, really wished there weren't. "Sure thing," he agreed shortly, but the idea of his baby girl naked on the other side of that door really wasn't doing a thing to help this new anti-innuendo law. "Where is it?" he asked.

"I left it under my pillow," Garcia replied, and there did he find it… what was left of it.

"These aren't your usual pajamas," he said suddenly.

"This isn't my usual _climate_," she retorted. "Also, a pair a panties. They're in the—"

"I think you can come and get your own knickers out when you've got this on," Morgan protested, knocking for her to open the door.

She didn't. "Morgan, unfold the nightie you're holding." Morgan did so. "Do you think there's any chance that I can get over to my suitcase and bend over to get some without flashing you while wearing that?"

Morgan gulped quietly at the idea of his girl 'bending over to _get some_.' "Okay, where did you say they were?"

Garcia gave directions, and Morgan found them. _Christ_, did he find them… The only problem was… which pair did she want? If he gave her the lacy ones, was that perverted of him? Which were the most comfortable to wear to bed? He had no idea. Shit… Eventually, as Garcia called out again, he closed his eyes and just picked a pair at random, going over to the door and knocking again. When it opened a crack, he poked his hand in, averting his gaze, and retracting that hand the moment it came up empty. A few seconds passed in silence and he was just beginning to think that he was in the clear when…

"Morgan, is this a joke?" Garcia asked slowly.

"What?" Morgan all but squeaked.

"Is this a _joke_," she repeated, her voice frightening him.

"I just picked at random," he started to explain, but she cut him off.

"Morgan, I never _packed_ a _thong_."

Morgan's eyes expanded to the size of golf balls. Terrified, terrified little golf balls, just about to get a really good _whack_ with the club… Thankfully he was saved from answering by her realization.

"Christ! It must have been _JJ! _Before you went home with my bags, we tried to even out the weight between ours…"

Morgan sighed in relief. "Penelope, you know I would _never_—"

"I know, Morgan," Garcia sighed, opening the door again and passing the offending piece of lingerie back through. "Do you think you could try one more time?"

Thankfully for his sanity, and physical wellbeing too, the next pair were deemed appropriate, and Garcia changed promptly. However, despite her angry words earlier, he couldn't help but watch as she bent over the bag of dirty laundry to shove that day's clothes in, or to turn down her bed…

"Night, Morgan," she said quietly, as she turned the light out. "And… I'm sorry for going off at you, but will you please try?"

He didn't have to ask what she was talking about.

"I _will_ try," he agreed regretfully, and no more words were spoken that night.

-

Morgan lay awake for hours after the lights went out, staring hopelessly at the ceiling. Out of nowhere he recalled the day before Garcia had been shot. She'd been mad at him for judging the guy who'd just asked her out and she'd hung up on him before he could explain. Surely she must have known there'd been a reason for his jealousy? Apparently not, because that night when he asked her out, she blew him off, and she'd been hurt as a result of that. All he could figure now was that maybe bad things didn't just happen when he went to church. Maybe bad things happened because he was away from his girl. Because he wasn't there to protect her. Glancing over at his sleeping love, he vowed that he wouldn't let that happen again. He just had to figure out how to make _her_ realize that.

-

"Wake up, sleepy head," Garcia chirped, swatting him on the arm a couple of times.

Opening his arms, Morgan saw his love standing over him, hair cocooned in a fluffy white towel, and smiling a bright smile. He frowned. If she was smiling that widely at this time in the morning then either she knew something he didn't, or it was every bit as false as his own smile was in return. He supposed it was probably the latter.

"Hey, uh, Penelope," he mumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows before dragging himself into a sitting position. "Good morning?"

"Yup, good morning," Penelope agreed. "Get ready because we're supposed to be down at breakfast in 15 minutes."

"15 minutes!" Morgan repeated, jumping out of bed.

"Don't worry your little bald head, _hot stuff_. It's not like you have to _shampoo_ or anything."

"Penelope…"

"I didn't mean to say it, Derek," Garcia amended quickly. "I meant what I said last night. I don't want this anymore. I want to be your _friend_."

"Baby— _Penelope_, you're my _best_ friend," he told her seriously. "No matter what else we've ever been, or will ever be, you'll always be my best friend. Nothing can change that."

"You're a sweetie, Derek. Go on and shower. Sorry for calling you that again."

"Penelope, you know I've never thought it was anything but incredibly cute of you, right?"

He watched her half-hearted smile as she turned away and frowned. This could be more difficult than he'd thought.

-

"Garcia, you said something about a new swimsuit?" said JJ, chowing down into her bacon and eggs (though with nowhere near as much vigour as her pregnant wife), oblivious to the change in dynamic between her and Morgan.

"Yeah, mine is absolutely unsightly," Garcia agreed, overcompensating with an abundance of smiles and unnecessary laughter, which only Morgan himself seemed to be picking up on. "I was thinking rainbows… or maybe a nice purple…?"

"Well there're a few big shopping centres here in the city," JJ suggested. "We could hit those…"

"Morgan, you and I could do something else," Emily offered, seeing the look on the man's face and mistaking it for dread at the prospect of spending the day swimwear shopping. "Not sure I'd be much fun to cart around the beach, but—"

"Well, why don't you take Garcia shopping, and we'll go?" JJ suggested.

"Em doesn't want to spend the day on her feet waiting on me," Garcia protested, and they were back to square one.

"Well, how about we spend the day together, and then in the afternoon, JJ can take Garcia to the mall and they can have a look around," was Emily's input, and everyone seemed to agree.

As they left the breakfast room, though, heading up to their rooms and planning to meet in the lobby in 15 minutes, Emily pulled Morgan aside, and called over to her wife that she'd be up in a second. Garcia and JJ traded suspicious looks but got into the elevator anyway.

"Morgan, what's wrong with you?" she asked bluntly. She'd expected him to perk up once swimwear shopping had been erased from his itinerary, but he'd hardly seemed to notice the change in plans. "Garcia's been throwing smiles around all morning, but you look glum as an ugly duckling. Did something happen?"

"Garcia may be 'throwing smiles around' but she's certainly not in a state any better than I am."

"So I supposed," Emily admitted. "It's almost unnatural for one of you to be happy while the other is suffering."

Morgan flinched at the wording. 'Suffering' sounded a bit…

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He did consider it, briefly, but in the end Morgan decided that, no, it was his burden to bear for now. "It's fine."

Emily chuckled mirthlessly. "It's a lot of things, Morgan, but 'fine' is hardly one of them."

"I'll figure it out," he assured her, and though she worried, she left it at that. Surely Morgan couldn't let his baby girl be unhappy for long. He'd give her anything if she asked him. He couldn't help it.

"Have you got any plans for today?" Emily went on, and Morgan knew she was talking about plans for Garcia just as much as she was talking about plans for the group.

"There's a place called 'The Rocks', or Darling Harbour, maybe?"

Emily smiled bittersweetly and nodded. "I'll see you in ten minutes."

-

"The Rocks", JJ was reading out of a brochure forty-five minutes later as they walked along by the harbour's edge, "Was, in 1788, the landing place of 1400 men, women, and children, more than half of whom were convicts. Today the restored district provides the visitor a fascinating insight into Australia history. It is located a short walk west from the Sydney Opera House—"

"JJ, you do know we can _see_ it, don't you?" Emily asked, amused, and JJ looked up from her brochure suddenly.

"What?"

"The _Opera House_."

"_Where??"_ JJ exclaimed, glancing around quickly, and Emily smiled as JJ's face lit up upon seeing it. "Wow, it's bigger than I thought! And so white!"

With JJ preoccupied, Morgan took a hold of the pamphlet she'd been holding. "It says we can go into some of the old buildings: the oldest is 'Cadman's Cottage'. There's also 'Susannah Place', 'Campbells Storehouse' and the 'Merchants House'…"

"Mmm, yes," Emily agreed, "But doesn't this place also have some of Sydney's best restaurants…?"

The other three stared at her in shock. "Emily, you just _ate_," JJ reminded her carefully, causing Emily to pout.

"Yes, but I've got two to feed…"

"She ate enough at breakfast for three…" Garcia whispered to Morgan, apparently not quietly enough.

"Hey, Pen, I _heard_ that!" she cried, lashing out harmlessly. Garcia only grinned in response.

"Isn't there a great museum of contemporary art here?" she suggested devilishly, and the way Morgan's face morphed at the supposition suggested that this might be a particular jab at him.

"Baby Girl, don't you _dare_ drag me through another one of them damn _crackpot_ museums!" Morgan exclaimed suddenly. "I don't _care_ what the guys at the bookstore told you about symbolic significance! That picture you showed me from the museum in Venice was nothing more significant than a guy on a horse with an extremely large _dick_!" He froze when he saw her reaction. "…Geez, Penelope. Give me some time to get used to it."

"Get used to what?" asked JJ, eyes darting between them anxiously.

"He…"

"I'm not allowed to call her 'Baby Girl' anymore," Morgan explained reluctantly, and even Emily was torn away from her cravings and her sore ankles long enough to stare, open-mouthed, in shock.

"Penelope Garcia, that man has called you 'Baby Girl' right from the day he met you!" JJ cried, dragging her friend around the nearest corner and leaving Emily and Morgan behind. "What on _Earth_ could have changed all that within the space of one evening? Because you were fine with it when you two were in with me and Em last night!"

"JJ, I don't want to talk about it," Garcia protested, pulling her arm back into her side roughly.

"Garcia, I've absolutely _no idea_ what's going on here and it's killing me knowing that my friends are going through rough times without me there!" JJ exclaimed. "Please just tell me the _truth_ now! You are _not_ 'okay', Penelope Garcia!"

"…It's just not what I want anymore, Jayj," Garcia replied quietly. "I want something more than this endless _flirting_."

"Come on, sweetie, it's more than that. Tell me _everything_," JJ pressed, causing Garcia to sigh in frustration.

"Okay, so listen. We've always joked about sex, Jayj, and it's always been _fun_ and, most of all, _easy_, because it's something I accepted long ago would never actually happen, but recently he's been making cracks about being in _love_ with me, and I just don't think I can do this anymore. It's too serious," Garcia explained. "Is that strange of me? All I know is that I can't have him joking about something that's so important to me, and I can't _ever_ let what happened in my apartment after I was shot happen again."

It was hard not to get the wrong idea.

"Wha— What '_happened_ in your apartment, Pen?? I had no idea you'd actually—!"

"I didn't! _We_ didn't!" Garcia amended quickly. "I meant… _Jesus_… I meant that, well… He told me he _loved_ me, Jayj, and I guess at the time I either figured he was joking, or meant it platonically at least. But lately I've begun to wonder and, I can't _stand_ it! Wondering whether or not all those years ago he might have loved me, and if I blew it because I didn't take him seriously... Like, like he was _Mulder_ and I was _Scully_ in Episode 3 of Season 6, when he told her he loved her and she dismissed it as a bloody concussed _rambling_… But the thing is, if we're always joking, Jayj, then how am I supposed to know when he's telling the truth? And most of all… I can't hear him calling me his 'girl' every day if it means something different to me than it does to him. It's not fair to _either_ of us to let it continue..."

JJ's mind skipped over the X-Files reference. "Pen, it's plain to see that he's totally in love with you. For goodness' sake, everyone _else_ can see it."

But it was almost like Garcia couldn't hear her.

"…One minute he's calling me his _'best friend_,' and the next… it's almost like we could kiss, and all I'm thinking is 'I'm going to blow it again, I know it…'"

"Pen," JJ sighed quietly, "You honestly couldn't _'blow it'_ with Derek Morgan if you tried. He could never stop loving you—"

"_Jennifer Louise Jareau_, don't you ever dare _think_ about abandoning your pregnant wife in a foreign country _ever again_!" came Emily's voice all of a sudden as she whirled around the corner. "We're been looking for you two!"

Morgan's head popped up behind her in short course, and JJ could only gulp in response. It was Emily's I'm-hormonal-and-crazy-pissed-at-you-for-it tone, after all… It was the one thing that scared her more than her job.

Garcia studied Morgan's face carefully for signs of change, but he seemed to be pointedly avoiding her gaze.

"…Derek?"

He glanced at her reluctantly. "Penelope, I'm sorry."

Garcia smiled weakly. "You've got the guidebook, Morgan. Where're we hitting first?"

-

Susannah Place consisted of a terrace of four English houses built in 1844 and home to more than 100 families over those 150 years. Inside, oral histories of past tenants were combined with the physical traces they had left behind, including rooms that had been recreated to suit different periods in the buildings' long history. Unlike many of the larger landmarks, these terraces had been home to the working class: self-employed tradesmen, grocers, compositors, bakers, policemen, and waterside workers, most of whom had been bought out of their historic properties, or driven away by the plague in the early 1900s, and developed over. According to the brochure the last occupants of the building had described it "Like living on a five-acre property," because there were so few people around at the end.

"Funny that 'history' here only goes back 200 years," JJ mused as they exited the building, all feeling suitably humbled. "I mean, they must learn the same thing over and over again in history classes."

Emily laughed, by now in a much better mood than she had been earlier. It was an absolutely gorgeous day outside, and though Morgan and Garcia were still tip-toeing around each other, they were at least attempting to be civil… Except that without their usual jokes and innuendo, being civil seemed to be all it was. Morgan was simply not _Morgan_ without it, and all three girls were aware just how hard he was trying to keep his thoughts to himself, for Garcia's sake.

"Hey, there's an interesting looking exhibit on female killers on at a local museum," he joked, flipping through yet another brochure, this time one that he'd picked up in Susannah Place.

"God, Morgan. We're hardly three days out of Virginia, can we please not talk about murderers and cases for just these two weeks?" Garcia begged. "Honestly, I get enough of it there, and these creeps gives me the willies…"

Morgan bit back a comment (Something like, "When had any unsub ever offered her their _willy_?") and seeing the look on his face, JJ snorted suddenly.

"Morgan, that's _gross_!" she exclaimed, causing him to almost jump in surprise.

"What??"

"Oh, come on, Morgan, just because Pen won't let you say it, doesn't mean we're not all well aware how your mind works by now!" she chastised him. "Geez…"

Garcia blushed and smiled awkwardly at Morgan, grateful for the effort.

"Jealous, are you, Morgan?" Emily snickered. "Do you want to be the guy giving Penny the willies?"

Once again, Morgan bit back a response.

"Just the _one_ willy, I think, Em," JJ corrected her. "He's too _alpha male_ to let another willy in on the fun…"

"Guys, you're worse than Morgan!" Garcia exclaimed, turning her bright pink face away from her friends. "Leave it alone!"

"It's not right to leave such great lines left unsaid!" JJ protested, "And since Morgan is quite decidedly playing the gentleman today…!"

"Don't play with things you don't understand," Morgan muttered gruffly. "This isn't anything to do with you two."

Emily decided to take affront at that. "Morgan, we're a team here, and more than that, we're _friends_. So if something is unnecessarily affecting our girl's ability to even so much as _giggle_ about this sort of thing, then we're going to do everything we can to push for an end to it."

"Right now, that means getting you and her back to normal," JJ agreed. "Because as far as I can see, until last night, normal always rocked Pen's world just fine."

"Guys, leave it alone," Garcia repeated, obstinately striding along ahead of her friends.

Watching as Morgan followed two steps behind dutifully, Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Something had to be done about this. Immediately. Thankfully, they were certain that Morgan was thinking the same thing.


	6. Kiss A Girl On Christmas Eve

_**She Doesn't Need Time**_

Author's Note: Starting school again tomorrow so I'm afraid updates will be less frequent than they have been, though hopefully I'll get something up by the end of the weekend. Anyway, I hope you like this farewell chapter, dedicated to my idiot sister, without whom I would never bother to update so fast. Read and review, everyone! Big surprise next chapter =) xx, Becky

Full Summary:  Emily, only three months from delivering her first child, is called away along with her wife to her nephew's funeral in Sydney, Australia. Amidst a family reunion of epic proportions, and facing the prospect of two weeks in the sun with Morgan and Garcia to follow, JJ and Emily get used to the finer points of what "Til death do us part" really means. Love is for life. So is family. So are friends. Don't let her walk away. She doesn't need time.

-

_**Chapter 6**_

"Morgan, JJ told me what's going down between you and Garcia, and honestly it's complete bullshit," said Emily bluntly immediately after parting with the other two, so that they could go swimwear shopping.

"It wasn't _my_ decision," was all Morgan would say, but if he was expecting sympathy, he was dead wrong.

"That's bullshit too."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, bravado over a guilty conscience. "How do you figure? She practically floats into a depression every time I slip up. It's hardly my idea of fun."

"Jesus, Morgan, you _love_ her, right?"

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed defensively.

"You're _in love_ with her?"

Emily watched as he suddenly became very awkward, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. "Em," he said, "That's not fair…"

"What's not?" asked Emily skeptically. "You told me so before, and said you were _past_ denying it, too!"

"You're going to say 'You love her, so go for it,' but it's not that simple," Morgan protested. "For one thing, she wouldn't even believe me right now…"

Emily held a hand to her head in a gesture of mock-despair. "Morgan, you're an idiot," she told him. "There's nothing she wants to hear more."

"Hate to disagree…"

"What you absolutely _cannot_ do," Emily pressed on regardless, "Is stop calling her 'Baby Girl'. She doesn't mean to be driving you away but she is, and the longer you pussyfoot around each other, the harder it's going to be to get back to normal. You've got to call her 'Baby Girl' at every opportunity, but also show her more affection than usual, put your arm around her walking down the street and such. And if you—"

"Emily, I'm trying to respect her wishes here," Morgan objected. "I'm trying to do the right thing by her."

"Those last two sentences don't even make sense used in conjunction with each other right now," Emily said dismissively. "She wants just what _you_ want: an honest, loving relationship. She's just deluded herself into thinking that this bullshit is the way to go to achieve that."

Morgan sighed resignedly. "This is on your head if it fails," he said firmly, and Emily smiled in reply.

"It's Christmas Eve, Morgan," she reminded him. "Kiss a girl on Christmas Eve and she'll be yours forever… Just remember what I told you: _She doesn't need time_."

-

"No, Linda, I don't care what the baby book says, I am not dressing my son in pink., nor my daughter in blue— I don't care if he won't _know_ that pink is for girls the minute he's born. It doesn't matter because _I_ know, Linda, as does the _rest _of the world— Hang on. Hang on one second, baby. No. No. It's that guy from the Ferris Wheel. No. The other one. 'Way to show some balls's boyfriend. Yeah. Yeah, I love you too, honey. Talk to you later. …_Mate_! Hey, wait up!"

The tall, black man turned back at his call and smiled mysteriously. "You're Jimmy," he remembered.

"Yeah, you're that _guy_," Jimmy agreed, then laughed awkwardly. "I don't know your name. You were at the park last night, and your girlfriend called up to me on the Ferris Wheel." He wasn't sure whether or not she was his girlfriend, really. He supposed she could have been his wife, but he decided to guess lower rather than higher.

"Morgan. My name's Morgan… And Garcia— that woman wasn't my girlfriend," the man replied, and Jimmy nodded as though he'd been expecting it.

"You're one lucky man to have a wife like her," he then concluded, completely straight-facedly.

Morgan almost wasn't sure how to respond. "No, we're not married either," he said firmly, and now Jimmy was beginning to look confused.

"You're really just _friends_ with her?" He asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm not usually wrong about these sorts of things…"

"Yeah, well, there's a first time for—"

"Are you _attracted_ to her, at least?"

Morgan froze at the question. "Am I _what_?"

"Or maybe you're in love with her…"

"What? Who _are_ you, kid?"

"You are, aren't you?"

Morgan stared at Jimmy like he was some sort of alien creature, almost like an emotional _Reid_. "Look, she's a nice girl, a great girl…" He sighed resignedly, "And yes, she may even be _the_ girl… But what's it to you?"

Jimmy shrugged, a heavy blush making itself evident on his ruddy cheeks. "I just know what it's like to be waiting so long for everything to just fall into place. And I know that sometimes you've got to put the extra bit of effort in to make it happen."

"'…Scuse me," Morgan muttered, turning to walk away.

"Hey, _wait_," Jimmy called after him. "Come out for a drink with me and Linda if you're not busy tonight. We'd be glad to have you."

His offer was genuine, but the look on Morgan's face confirmed Jimmy's suspicions: He was anxious to get back to her.

"My baby girl is waiting for me," he replied, body still half-turned to leave.

"Your kid?" Jimmy supposed, and Morgan hesitated before shrugging ruefully.

"…My _Garcia_."

-

It was a fancy place JJ had found for dinner— not the sort of thing you can just walk in on, but that you have to book in advance for. That's why Morgan was so surprised that only two places were set. JJ got to her feet immediately as she saw him coming.

"Emily's got a stomach ache," he explained, eyebrows furrowed slightly. "I tried to get her to come along but she… Has she already called you?"

"I'm going back to the hotel," JJ explained, slinging her jacket, which had been resting on the back of the chair across from Garcia, over her arm, a cheeky smile trying to hide itself on the corners of her lips. "I hope you don't mind. I couldn't possibly be anywhere but by her side tonight. It's Christmas Eve, after all."

"I understand," Morgan agreed, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "You get back to mommy, and I'll take care of my Baby Girl here."

JJ beamed, leaning over to hug him briefly. "It was good advice she gave you," she whispered so that only he could hear it, and Morgan froze. The nice restaurant, the table for two… It was all a setup after all. Emily's stomach hadn't hurt an ounce more than usual! He grimaced at his own gullibility. Emily must have driven him away from his and Garcia's room and down by the water earlier so that JJ could go in and doll her up for the evening. The effort hadn't gone unnoticed, nor had the obvious results…

"Tell her to feel better," he hinted as they parted, and JJ hid a guilty grin as she turned to go.

"Have a good night, Pen!" she called, and then she was gone.

Morgan sat down and, not for the first time, really wondered what she was thinking. Thankfully, it wasn't long before she told him.

"Morgan, I thought we were in agreement on this. So what's changed since—?"

"Baby Girl, you look absolutely gorgeous," Morgan told her sincerely, interrupting her words of caution.

"Morgan…"

He frowned in reply. "Baby Girl, maybe you should stop worrying about what _is_ changing, and start worrying about what _needs_ changing."

"On a personal or global scale?" Garcia wondered, unamused, and Morgan sat back in his seat, shaking his head a little.

"Have you looked at the menu at all yet?" he asked, waving aside her comment.

Garcia grimaced. "Of course, I have. You were _late_."

Morgan blinked in surprise and checked his watch. "But I left at…? Oh…"

"'Oh'?"

"I ran into Jimmy on the way here," Morgan explained, and when she showed no sign of recognition, he mimed a Ferris Wheel with his hands. "Jimmy of Linda-and-Jimmy, the couple from the park?"

Immediately Garcia's face lit up. "Oh! How funny! Did you talk?"

"Some," Morgan admitted slowly.

"Well, what about?" she probed, leaning forward a little.

"He told me how lucky I was to be married to you."

Garcia baulked, and then laughed suddenly. "You're kidding!"

"I most certainly am not!" Morgan disagreed, even as he laughed. "Would I joke about anything so serious?"

Garcia felt her heart flutter briefly. "Morgan, you haven't got a serious bone in your body," she criticized him lightly. "And besides that, you're hardly the sort to consider _marriage_ a serious institution, Mr Happy Bachelor."

"Baby Girl, I hope you know I'm not the same person I was when you first started at the BAU," Morgan prompted, a little hurt, and she squirmed uncomfortably.

"The fish here sounds lovely, actually…"

"_Penelope Garcia_, don't tell me you've noticed no change at all in me since you arrived?" His tone had changed to one of complete incomprehension. "How can you possibly be so ignorant to the changes you've inspired…?"

"_I've_ inspired? Are you kidding? Derek, my social life is hardly inspiring, and you don't exactly take notes on how to act more like _me_ when we go out. It's not exactly the way to pick up dates, after all," Garcia said, still trying to keep things light.

"I don't mean it like that," Morgan complained, frustrated. "I can't believe you haven't even noticed!"

"Noticed _what_?"

"Me. All these years we spent together. You think everything's stayed the same?"

Garcia bristled at the implication. "And what about you?" she argued. "I'm sure you haven't noticed each and every change in _me_ over the past years!"

"Baby Girl, I have done nothing _but_ notice you all these years…"

"…Morgan, I—"

"Excuse me, would you like to order some drinks to start?" a waitress asked, bending over the table to flip open the drinks menu.

Morgan leaned closer to look at it, and Garcia found herself shocked that he hadn't so much as glanced at her. From where she was sitting the waitress was nothing if not extraordinarily pretty and with the way she'd leaned across the table, her breasts all but brushing his cheek, she would have thought…

"Baby Girl, a sparkling wine?"

Garcia nodded wordlessly. Now that this busty waitress was around, she supposed she didn't mind the possessive endearment so much…

"One of those and a red, then," Morgan added, and his eyes never left Garcia as the waitress leaned down again to take the drinks menu, and as she walked away.

"You _have_ changed," she admitted quietly.

"I'm not a serious guy, Baby Girl, and I love playing games with you," Morgan said, his tone contradicting his words in its inherent seriousness, "But I'm trying. At first I thought the best way to do that was to respect your wishes, but even though that was what you said you wanted, it didn't make you any happier. I've _missed_ your dirty little grin, Baby Girl. And I've missed hearing you laugh."

"Morgan, it's like this, okay? _Sex_ is fun," Garcia said suddenly. "Sex is _extremely_ fun. Mad, passionate love affairs, getting drunk and making love on the beach, skinny-dipping in someone's pool while they're sleeping… Can't you see that all that is fun too, but it's no way to live your life day to day? There's got to be a serious foundation to fall back on somewhere!"

"What are you saying? I'm sex on the beach to you?" asked Morgan, a little darkly, and Garcia was surprised by the intensity of his gaze.

"No, Morgan, not _you_," she tried to explain. "_This!_" She waved her hands in an indistinct, all-encompassing gesture. "'Baby Girl,' _'Hot Stuff,' _talking dirty on the phone at work… Can't you see that I'm trying to separate you from 'sex on the beach?' That that's why I'm doing this?"

She watched him consider it, the desperation showing plainly on her face. More than anything, she needed him to understand her reasons before he went against her will, and she wasn't sure that he did yet.

"…Baby Girl," he began slowly, and she was disappointed. He clearly wasn't getting it.

"No, Morgan…"

"_Baby Girl," _Morgan repeated more firmly. "I am entirely serious about _you_. You don't have to worry about me moving on, or just using you for a laugh or a good time, or about the fact that you don't dress enough like a hooker to impress certain kinds of shallow, brainless bastards, though God knows why you ever would… You are someone that I can never get over, because I l_ove _you. I _changed_ for you, and I'm ready to settle now. Granted, I'm still the same old flirt, but… I figure that's the reason you fell for me anyway."

Shit, she found herself thinking. Maybe he understood better than she'd thought.

Morgan quirked a grin at her dazzled look. "Don't look so stunned, Baby Girl. Everyone else knew— _Eh_!!"

Morgan recoiled suddenly as Garcia's sharp, heeled shoe made brief contact with his shin. "You _moron_, why haven't you said so before!" she cried, tears welling up in her eyes. "I've been waiting for you!"'

"You're the moron, Baby Girl," Morgan replied affectionately, wincing a little as he reached down to rub his sore leg. "I've always thought it was obvious."

-

"Aaron, what are you _doing_ here again?" Haley sighed as she opened the door, glancing back to scour the room for signs of her son quickly. "I told you yesterday that I'm not letting you take Jack for Christmas! You don't do _nearly_ enough to warrant that privilege. _I'm_ the one who looks after him all year round!"

"And then you slammed the door in my face without letting me explain," Hotch added quickly. "Haley, I don't want to take him away from you. I just want to spend time with _you_ and my _son_ this Christmas. Is that too much to ask?"

"Aaron, I'm still getting over you," Haley worried, a deep frown becoming evident on her face. "I don't know if I can spend time with you right now without it going somewhere I don't want it to go."

"Haley, please," said Hotch, almost begging. "Please don't ever get over me. Because I can't get over you, and I don't want to be the only one."

"For goodness' sake, Aaron…"

"Don't turn me away on Christmas Eve, Haley. Just think about it. I'll make dinner for you and Jack, we can watch a movie, and I can put your presents under the tree like always. Just for tonight," he asked, holding up a pair of neatly wrapped presents hopefully.

Haley stepped out of the doorway sighing. "Just for tonight, Aaron. Then we really need to figure out what we're doing here."

"I know," Hotch agreed seriously. "Now, where's my boy?"

"Dad!" Hotch's face lit up entirely at the voice of his four-year-old, running to meet him. "Dad, I knew you'd be home for Christmas! I knew it!" he cried. "Mom said you wouldn't, but I just knew it! Are those presents for me?"

Hotch relinquished them willingly. "Careful there, son. The one with the silver bow on the top is for your mother."

Jack thrust it at her, and then ran to put his under the Christmas tree with the others. Haley held her present awkwardly. "Come in," she said. "I'll get you a drink and then we can talk about getting something ready for dinner."

Hotch smiled as he crossed the threshold into the house. "The tree looks good this year."

"I could have used your help getting it in here."

Hotch flinched at the not-so-subtle jab. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much, but I'm ready to change that," he said honestly.

Haley was rightly skeptical. "Until you get a 9 to 5 job, Aaron, I don't see how we can work this out."

"But that's exactly what I _have_ done."

Haley froze and whirled on him. "Say that again, Aaron. _What_ have you done?"

Hotch grinned widely and knew immediately that it had been the right decision. "I tendered my resignation almost a month ago. The team doesn't know yet, but I'm putting in for Derek Morgan to take my place at the head of the team, and I'm starting profiling as part of a violent crimes unit settled right here in Virginia in three weeks time," he admitted. "I'll still consult for offices in other states, but I won't have to travel. It'll all be by correspondence."

"I never expected—"

"When the Reaper made you his target, Haley, I knew immediately that you and Jack were far more important to me than the job," Hotch explained. "I almost lost you, and I can't let that happen again."

"Christ, Aaron, you do love your bombshells, don't you…?" Haley whispered weakly.

"I'm not expecting to move back in right off the bat or anything," he told her gently. "I know we still have our problems and this can't make up for all the wasted time, but I'd like to know if, someday, you think you might be able to stand even simple co-habitation with me again?"

Haley didn't reply, but simply launched herself into his arms, kissing him passionately…

"_Eww_, mom," Jack remarked, sticking out his tongue and making a retching noise as he found them in the hall. "Don't be so gross."

Haley laughed helplessly. "Jack, daddy's going to be around a lot more now. Isn't that exciting?"

Hotch smiled as his son's face lit up. Yes… this had _definitely_ been the right decision.

-

"Can I _please_ see my present, Em? _Please_? You've only been going on about it for _months_!"

Emily smiled wickedly at her wife. She was right— she'd been teasing about it, calling it the best present ever, for _ages_, but that didn't mean she was going to give it away on the evening before Christmas! "Not a chance, Jayj!"

"But I really want to know!" she complained, pouting cutely. "You wouldn't give your gorgeous wife even just a small hint?"

"Nope! Not one!"

"Can I at least see what shape it is? What size? Is it wrapped? _Can_ it be wrapped…?"

"I think wrapping it would cause some problems," Emily admitted, grinning conspiratorially.

"Jesus, Emily. _Tell me!_" JJ cried, flinging her weight back onto the bed hopelessly, but Emily only grinned at her wife's dramatics.

"Sweetie, you've got one night left to wait. Don't be ridiculous," she told her. "Trust me, it's worth it."

"I'll show you what I got for you?" JJ offered hopefully, but Emily rejected that too.

"Not until tomorrow morning," she maintained, causing JJ to slump again.

"…But what if I—?"

"Tomorrow morning, darling."

JJ pouted. "What am I going to do until then?" she asked petulantly, causing Emily to raise an eyebrow, and the grin on her face to widen until it stretched almost from one ear to the other.

"I've got a _few_ ideas…"

-

"Mmm… Morgan?"

Morgan tore his gaze away from the sparkling harbour and looked down at the gorgeous blonde sitting on the bench beside him, and leaning against his side. He smiled at her lovingly. "Yeah, Baby Girl?"

"Is this something that's going to change once we get back to Virginia?" Her voice was sleepy and quiet, but Morgan could see that she was concerned.

"What do you mean 'this'?"

Garcia squirmed a bit. "I don't know… All of it," she said. "Dinner out, a stroll by the water's edge, public displays of affection…?"

"Not if you don't want it to change, Baby Girl," Morgan replied, kissing the top of her head sweetly. "I know I don't. I'd be happy to stay here forever with you."

"You mean that?"

"Of course! I've never felt more at home anywhere in the world than I have when I'm where you are. _Wherever_ you are. I don't know if I could leave you again, even if you were to tell me that's what you wanted."

"You don't have to worry," Garcia replied contentedly. "I never will."

Morgan smiled slowly, eyes locked on her face as she looked up at him. This was his chance. He'd already told her he loved her, he was halfway there. He wouldn't screw up this time…

Garcia held her breath as Morgan ducked his head closer to hers, and as the hand on her shoulder moved to her neck. She couldn't help but feel like she was still sleeping somewhere. For everything to change so suddenly, it was like a dream or a wish she hadn't expected for a moment could come true for her, and just before she closed her eyes she could have sworn she'd even seen a pig fly by…

"You know what you're signing yourself up for, right?" asked Morgan, his lips so close that they almost brushed hers as he spoke. "Emily says that if you kiss a girl on Christmas Eve she'll be yours forever… Are you prepared to accept that?"

"Hell yes," Garcia whispered eagerly, and Morgan grinned before covering the last inch and pressing his lips to hers.

Wow… Maybe she really _had_ seen that flying pig after all.


	7. Present Time: Part 1

**Dear Faithful Readers,**

**I know this chapter's shorter than usual, but I haven't updated in so long (SO MUCH WORK, YUCK!) that I felt obliged to give you what I have. Hope you like =)**

**Becky**

_**-**_

_**Chapter 7**_

For the first time in several months now Hotch smiled warmly as he awoke in Haley's embrace, her face snuggled into his neck and her arms wrapped around him protectively.

"_I never wanted to leave,"_ she'd revealed to him between kisses the night before. _"I had to… But I never stopped loving you."_

He felt his heart swell at the memory, and, planting a soft kiss on Haley's cheek, he got up and wandered into the kitchen they'd once shared, chuckling stupidly to himself as he recalled how cruel the cold tiles were on his bare feet in winter. Checking the fridge, he grinned at its serendipitously typical contents. Bacon and eggs. A simple delicacy that even he could prepare. _Brilliant_.

Jack wandered into the living room next door just as he was serving his masterpiece onto 3 plates.

"Mom?" he called out. "That you in the kitchen?"

"No, it's dad this morning," Hotch replied, sticking his head out the door and waving the fork he was holding brightly.

"Dad!" Jack exclaimed, running up and launching himself onto his father. "You're still here!"

Hotch smiled widely. "Yeah, I'm still here," he agreed. "You hungry, little fella? I made breakfast."

"What about presents?" asked Jack, pouting a little.

"Breakfast first, then presents," Hotch replied firmly. "Do you want to go wake your mom?"

"Sure!" Jack agreed— he'd do anything to make 'present time' happen faster, Hotch knew from experience, and he chuckled. It was good to be home.

"Aaron?" Haley called out, padding through the living room on her toes to limit her exposure to the cold wood. Hotch grinned as she arrived in the kitchen and jumped across the tiles. "Aaron, you didn't have to cook."

"I wanted to," said Hotch honestly. "Come on, a nice hot breakfast will warm you up."

Haley smiled appreciatively and pulled her robe tighter around her. "I'll get some drinks ready," she agreed, and together they laid the table once again.

"Dad, are you gonna live with us now?" asked Jack tactlessly as he munched into a strip of crispy bacon. "It's been a while since we've had a real breakfast," he continued, mouth full.

"I make you breakfast," Haley protested, then she turned to Hotch. "I try to. I'm not usually such a morning person."

Hotch chuckled knowingly, glad to have avoided Jack's question.

"Mom doesn't know how to poach an egg," he revealed, causing Haley to blush a little.

"I know how— I just can't _do_ it," she tried to explain. "It never turns out right."

Hotch smiled. "I'd teach you, but it's nice to be needed for something," he admitted. "I'm almost afraid you'd both throw me out if only you could figure out how to poach an egg."

"So you _will_ stay, dad?" asked Jack earnestly.

Hotch shuffled awkwardly, but before he could reply, Haley took over from him pointedly. "Yes, he will," she answered, eyes shining at the smile that broke out over their son's face. "He's back for good now."

Suddenly tears were filling the little boy's eyes, and scraps of egg were falling from his mouth as he cried. "I didn't think Santa _knew_," he whimpered, sniffing loudly. "I only wrote that I wanted a spaceship because I didn't want to hurt mom's feelings… But Santa _knew_! I really only wanted dad to come home!"

Hotch put a hand on his son's back, fighting tears of his own. "It's okay, Jack," he said quietly, glancing at Haley for confirmation. "Santa knows everything…"

-

"Emily, Emily, Emily! _Present time_!" JJ cried, shaking her wife excitedly. "Come on! Wake up! It's present time!"

"_JJ, _what are you, _four_??" Emily groaned, pulling her pillow up over her face. "Go away. I feel sick and I'm not done sleeping!"

"Presents will make you feel better!" JJ proclaimed, and then, when Emily didn't reply, she pouted sullenly. "Emily, you promised me I'd only have to wait _one more night_ and it's _been_ one more night! Give me my fucking present _now_!"

Emily sighed loudly, jerking her leg back and kicking at nothing in particular before flopping forward into a sitting position and giving her wife a quick Christmas kiss. Sleep still dancing before her eyes, she then rolled out of bed and began shuffling through her handbag. JJ jumped onto the bed excitedly, crossing her legs and clutching her knees tight.

"Oh, gosh," she giggled, "I just hope I haven't built this up too much!"

"You haven't built it up _enough_," Emily replied, smirking as she realized how JJ's nails were digging into her skin and she hardly seemed to notice. When she'd found what she was looking for, she turned around and hid it behind her back, and she smiled as she saw JJ sitting with eyes closed and hands extended on the bed before her. Breathing in deeply, Emily leaned forward and dropped it into her hands. The piece of paper floated down, down, down…

JJ jumped almost three feet in the air when she felt the little piece of paper touch her hands and immediately her eyes snapped open. She was looking at the back of a photograph, with Emily's trademark scrawl spiraling across it, reading:

_Don't worry, I'll always love _you_ best, Jayj. Love Emily._

Turning it over, JJ found herself faced with a sonogram, and she studied it excitedly. After the first couple of scans, which Emily had attended alone (unable to contrive a reason for her, at the time, officially just _colleague_ to get off work to come with her), Emily had refused to let JJ come, or even see the pictures. And of course, JJ had been hurt by it ("It's my baby too!") and she'd wondered _why_, but she'd never asked. If Emily didn't want her there, then…

But now…

JJ stared at the picture, her eyes taking in every little grey detail. Suddenly, she froze as she realized what she was looking at.

"Emily…?"

Emily grinned as her wife glanced up at her, eyes wide. "_Yup?_"

JJ stared at her wife open-mouthedly, and then glanced back at the picture, affording it the same look. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she was apparently speechless.

"Your reaction has been nothing short of priceless," Emily assured her smilingly as the other woman began to choke on her own tears, and helpless laughter bubbled belatedly from JJ.

"I still don't know how I'm reacting," JJ admitted. "…__Jesus_, how could you not tell me! …And yet, what a _brilliant_ surprise… _Fuck_, Emily. Wow. …_Wow_. How could you have done this? Why didn't I _know_?"

Emily laughed again. "I meant to tell you," she admitted, "But then I was grumpy at you that night, and I thought 'I'll tell her tomorrow', and _then_ I thought… well, hey, this could be very, very fun…" She trailed off ruefully. "You're not mad, are you?"

"Well, I'm glad I've made your day with my reaction," JJ replied, still struggling to take in what she held in her hands.

"Darling, you've made my _trimester_," Emily replied sincerely.

JJ laughed a high-pitched laugh and then settled. "Is this real? We're having twins?"

"Twin girls," Emily confirmed, coming to sit on the bed, her swollen belly brushing JJ's arm as she nestled beside her and glanced over her shoulder at the familiar image. "Merry Christmas."

"Wow, Em… Do you think we can do this?"

Emily smiled and bent down to peck her wife's lips reassuringly. "I know we can," she said. "It's not as though we won't have any help. We've got some gorgeous friends."

JJ looked up again suddenly. "Em! What do you think happened between Morgan and Garcia last night?" she asked excitedly.

Emily's expression morphed deviously. "Is it too early to find out?"

"8 o'clock?" said JJ, checking the clock on the bedside table.

"…Sounds decent!" Emily exclaimed, and JJ had to agree. Were they back in Virginia she would be well on her way in to work by now… "Room 103?"

"Garcia forgot to take her key back from me last night," JJ realized, glancing into her jacket pocket with a grin. "I still have it."

Emily beamed, grabbing her friends' presents off the desk. "Perfect!"

-

Morgan was just out of the shower when Emily and JJ barged into the room. Clad as he was in nothing but a pair of dark blue jeans and an unfamiliar cross necklace, both had to admit that his upper (and most likely lower…) body was really quite magnificent.

"_Jesus_, Derek, you're lucky we're gay!" JJ exclaimed, flinging Garcia's key down on the desk with a cheeky grin. "Pen in the bathroom?"

The sound of the running shower through the door was evidence enough.

"Too bad _I'm_ _not_ gay," Morgan replied, pulling on a red t-shirt and giving JJ a skeptical look. "What're you trying to do, Jayj? Tear me away from my beautiful girlfriend?"

"Your _what_?" Emily exclaimed, drawing JJ's horrified attention away from the humiliation of her own state of undress (which in her excitement she had apparently, quite fairly, not yet noticed).

"You and Pen?" she cried. "Finally!"

Morgan chuckled lightly, tossing JJ a dressing gown from the cupboard, which she promptly pulled on over her little nightie. "Yeah, _finally_! Tell us _everything_," she pressed, pushing him down onto Garcia's bed before dropping next to him. "Spare us _no detail_!"

"You took my advice, didn't you," Emily surmised, giving him no time to explain as she stood over him, hands decisively set on her hips. "Well, like you said: it's on _my_ head…"

"_Thank you, _Emily," said Morgan, grinning, knowing that this was what she was waiting for.

"No shit! …But really, thank _you_," Emily replied, glancing at the bathroom door with a barely hidden smile as she dropped the presents on the bed. "She needs someone stable in her life. Someone who loves her just how she is."

"I do," Morgan promised.

"Course you do," JJ agreed. "And you have no idea how happy we are to hear that."

"Speaking of being happy to hear things…?" Emily suggested hopefully, with a glance at JJ.

"We'll wait for Pen," JJ agreed, returning Emily's look.

Morgan glanced between them suspiciously, but was interrupted as Garcia chose just that moment to spring out of the bathroom, throwing smiles around the room as per usual.

"You're lucky I heard you talking, sweetie," she directed at JJ, "Or I might not have dressed." She winked at Morgan not so subtly. "What's this about something I'll be happy to hear?"

Once again Emily and JJ exchanged looks.

"Come on, I just went through this," Emily pressed, after a few moments' silence.

"My turn?" JJ confirmed, grinning reluctantly.

"Your turn."

"What is it?" asked Garcia, standing next to JJ and frowning cautiously, obviously concerned.

"It's nothing bad," JJ promised quickly, catching her look. "It's just, ahh— You know how we always joked that Em's baby was like a dot… You know? Before it got big as a house?" She flinched as Emily elbowed her in the side and Garcia's confusion mounted.

"Yeah?" she confirmed, unsure where this was headed.

"Turns out we were wrong."

Garcia's eyebrows furrowed deeply as he watched realization dawn on Morgan's face. "What?" she asked slowly. "How? Other than in that, obviously a baby is significantly different to a dot—"

Emily laughed quietly.

"Penelope," JJ cut in, smiling, "We were wrong, because it was actually more like _two_ dots. Two lovely little female dots, who will hopefully one day look just like their mother—" All of a sudden she was being hugged so tightly she almost couldn't breathe, and she made a show of coughing loudly at her captor.

"Which one?" Garcia choked happily. "Guys, this is amazing! _Merry Christmas_."

"There'll only _be_ one if you don't let go of me!" JJ cried, causing Emily to chuckle as Garcia released her wife.

"Wow… How incredible…" she mused, giving Emily a second, much gentler, hug.

While this was going on, Morgan cleared his throat quietly. "JJ, my, ahh... My present couldn't possibly compare to Emily's," he admitted, getting up and walking over to his suitcase. "But here. Merry Christmas." He handed one parcel to JJ, and then another to Emily herself. "Congratulations, guys."

Both opened their presents eagerly, and Morgan winked at Garcia, getting up to stand beside her, an arm around her waist.

An amused grin snaked over JJ's face…

But suddenly there was a cry, causing both of them to look up.

"_Morgan!_ You bastard, you _knew_ and you never told me!"

Emily, the source of the cry, was holding up two pairs of pink baby pajamas, with an accusatory look on her face. "_How _did you—?"

"Jesus, calm down!" Morgan cut in, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Don't you remember when we were in Nevada and you almost died carting that belly around in your heels? When we were done with the case Hotch told you he didn't want you back on the plane 'til you were in sensible shoes again." He chuckled. "We were in line at the shoe shop and you felt sick…"

"…So I gave you my purse and told you to pay in cash," Emily finished, eyes wide in revelation.

"Voila sonogram," Morgan replied with a casual shrug.

"But you didn't say anything!" Emily protested. "I had no idea!"

"It wouldn't have been anywhere near as fun if you _had_," Morgan began, only to find himself brutally shoved aside by Garcia. He almost tottered over in surprise. "Baby girl, _what_ the—"

"Morgan, you didn't tell _me_!" she cried indignantly.

"Nor did they!" Morgan protested, scrambling to reclaim proper balance. And yes, that was a valid point, but…

"You could have told me!" she repeated stubbornly, with arms akimbo.

Morgan only laughed and took a hand, removing it from her hip and rubbing it good-humouredly between his own. "But then I wouldn't have got to see your reaction like this," he told her, a sickly sweet smile on his face.

"There seems to be a lot of that going around…" JJ muttered, one eyebrow raised skeptically.

"You're telling me," Emily replied. "So are we all clear of that now?"

"Guys, I'm so happy for you—" Garcia blushed to her roots as a loud, definite growl from her stomach cut her off. "…However, _my_ tummy seems unconcerned with the great news."

"We need breakfast," Emily confirmed, and JJ agreed guiltily, remembering that Emily had never eaten the evening before, though she hadn't complained at the time.

"How about we meet you downstairs in half an hour?" she suggested, and they agreed.

As they left the room Emily turned to JJ and nodded at the present she was holding, still concealed in crumpled gift paper. "Hey, I never saw what you got," she said, causing JJ to giggle a little. "…What?"

JJ grinned widely, pushing the paper back so that she could see.

"Morgan gave me a box of condoms."

-

"You're looking nice, Penny," JJ commented with a smile as Garcia and Morgan entered the breakfast room and took their seats at the table. "Are you wearing that new make-up me and Em got you for Christmas, or is it just that the post-coital _glow_ hasn't worn off yet?"

Emily tittered beside her and Morgan smirked, pulling an arm around Garcia's shoulder possessively. "Jayj, if Garcia had just been fucked every time she's looked this gorgeous she'd be getting some every minute of the day," he replied, causing her to blush. "Though in this case, that may be part of it…"

"Thanks for the make-up," Garcia murmured into her menu red-facedly.

"Thanks for the _condoms_, Morgan," JJ retorted, grinning widely. "Bit late though, aren't you?"

"What can I say?" he replied, waving his arms helplessly as he glanced at Garcia. "I'm a guy. My timing sucks."

"Yes, it does," Garcia agreed assuredly. "If I were only bisexual, there's no way I'd hang around waiting for a guy. You're all hopeless."

"It's not too late to cross the street, Pen," JJ suggested with a lewd wink. "You could always leave Morgan and join our ranks over here."

"No, she couldn't," Emily argued. "She's waited so long for that idiot man, she may as well enjoy him— at least for a little while!"

"I'm still here!" Morgan remarked, mock-insulted.

The girls merely smiled sardonically at him.

"For a little while, I suppose," Garcia agreed playfully and even Morgan laughed at the look on her face. "I think I'll go over to the buffet, rather than ordering," she went on. "Morgan?"

"Sure." He too put down his menu and they both stood. As they crossed the room, he leaned over to whisper in her ear: "Careful there, Baby Girl. Wound my pride too deeply and I might reconsider your Christmas present…"

Garcia's eyes rose into her hairline. She hadn't even considered what he might have got her. "I might reconsider yours," she retorted, but he only grinned.

"We'll see."

Despite herself, Garcia only became more and more curious as she watched Morgan load his plate with breakfast. "…What _did_ you get me?" she asked slowly, causing him to grin.

"Well, that'd be telling now, wouldn't it, baby girl?"

Garcia scowled and poked out her tongue petulantly, causing Morgan to laugh good-naturedly.

"Trust me," he implored her. "Emily got something for the baby, JJ got a gag gift… Christmas is by no means over yet, for any of you."


End file.
